Casting Shadows
by NightWolfMoon
Summary: It should have been a lovely vacation at a beautiful manor on the lake. Unfortunately, the place harbors dark secrets that should have stayed buried, but when the Duncan family begins to uncover those secrets bit by bit, they realize that bringing demons into the light doesn't kill them - it only makes them able to see just how terrifying they are.
1. Prologue: Dedmund Mansion

**Prologue: Dedmund Mansion**

"_Evil brings men together." - Aristotle_

The pentagram was complete. At the corresponding points were representations of four of the five elements: loose incense on a charcoal tablet resting atop sand collected in a goblet at one point for air; a small cauldron set at a point for fire; an empty glass bowl with a pitcher of collected raindrops from last week's downpour for water; and another empty glass bowl with a sack holding pebbles and soil collected from the nearby woods for earth. At the top point was a gold-painted bowl taken from the Dedmunds' home just for this ritual. Soon, it would hold the blood from the sacrifice as well as blood from each of the five girls.

"Petunia! Camille!" Nell shouted up the staircase. She, Jean Winterbourne, and Amy Ferguson were in the basement of the manor. It wasn't far from Dedmund Lake and was usually the summer getaway for the family the area was named after.

"We are _coming_, Nell!" Petunia shouted back. "We couldn't find Daddy's lighter!"

The eighteen-year-old girl with her thick, light auburn waves pulled back in a braid rolled her large, hazel-blue eyes. Out of her two younger sisters, Petunia had always been the more outspoken one. It got very annoying from time to time; she wished she could be more complacent like Camille was.

The youngest Dedmund girl had huge sky-blue eyes full of guilelessness and a need to please whereas Petunia's hazel eyes were often narrowed in rebellion and skepticism. Why couldn't she just trust that Nell knew what was best for all of them? Camille, Jean, and Amy did. If Petunia didn't trust her older sister, this ritual could end up going awry.

"Of all the things we remembered to bring," Jean murmured under her breath, "we just _had_ to forget the lighter."

Jean still wore her St. Agatha's Academy for Girls uniform like the others, but her button-up white shirt was partially taken out from under her pleated, blue-white-green plaid skirt, and she had also discarded her navy blazer and blue-and-green bowtie when upstairs, and her top two buttons undone. Compared to the other girls for compliance, Jean was second most-likely to rebel against Nell's plans.

Although Jean was her best friend, her steel-colored eyes often sparkled with great intelligence that took information with grains of salt. She had been the one to introduce Nell to the occult in the first place, and there had been quite a few times where she had shown regret in that decision.

While Jean had wanted to use it to grow closer to nature and the Divine as her mother and grandmother had taught her, Nell had seen much bigger goals than something she felt she could do at camp or mass. Jean had only stayed by Nell's side to try and steer her away from such plans, but now she was too entangled to leave. She very likely still wanted to, so Nell would have to keep an eye on her. She couldn't let anything or anyone mess this up for her.

"We had a lot of things on our mind," Amy pointed out, pulling her thick hair back into a tight ponytail that accented her face, bringing out the shape of her dark brown, almost black, eyes. When she pulled back her hair—colored like raw honey and gold—it became easier to see her Japanese features. Her father's mother was from Kyoto, and her family had moved to just outside of Denver a decade ago to hide and keep Amy, her father, siblings, and grandmother out of the Internment Camps.

Shrugging, Jean tossed back some of her copper-toned waves, which fell just a few inches past her broad shoulders. "True." Her deep-set eyes traveled to the altar set up in the middle of the pentagram. "Nell…"

"Here!" Petunia announced as she jumped from the third-to-last step to the basement's concrete floor. She only wore white knee-high socks that needed replacing on her feet, and her white top was completely undone, revealing her A-cup bra. Hanging in front of her heart was a crucifix, and her wide mouth—painted with red lipstick likely stolen from Mother's room—was set in a way that was a cross between a scowl and a pout. She held up a golden semi-automatic lighter. "Found them in Mom and Daddy's room."

Petunia tossed the lighter to her older sister and tossed some fiery-red curls behind one shoulder sassily. She then took off her top all the way and tied it away her waist by the sleeves. She tilted her head slightly in an almost-challenging way as Nell narrowed her eyes, taking the matches over to the altar she had set up while Jean and Amy had drawn the pentagram.

From behind the middle Dedmund sister, Camille coughed softly and played with her long, strawberry blonde curls. "Petunia, you shouldn't act so brashly." Her voice was soft and greatly lacking in self-confidence. Her eyes moved to the ground so as to avoid any possible eye-contact, and she was still in full-uniform, not a pleat out of place.

Nell and Petunia rolled her eyes at the same time, but Amy seemed to be as uncomfortable as the youngest Dedmund sister. Jean merely ignored it, already long-used to all of Petunia's idiosyncrasies after years of being around the sisters.

Indicating for Camille to take the bag of blood she had on the altar over towards the golden bowl. "If Petunia wishes to look like a slut, that is her choice."

The redhead huffed and took the bag from Camille. "Honey, you're turning green. I'll deal with the blood. Just be glad we were able to talk Nell out of killing a cute, defenseless animal." She shot Nell a pointed look before going to stand in behind the gold bowl, making sure not to touch the pentagram just yet. She had been wary about all this occult business, and the large crucifix hanging from her neck was likely her way of, yet again, announcing this fact. "We have been over this many times before, but please go through it again. It might calm down Cammy and Amy."

Camille went to stand next to Jean, who took her hand and smiled at her comfortingly. Amy went over to stand by Petunia. The two had been best friends since Amy first moved into the area, and Petunia had been the one to push Father into getting Amy into St. Agatha's.

The reason Petunia had even started going along with what Nell was doing was because Amy had become interested. Nell knew that Petunia had been trying to talk her out of leaving this group, but Amy was a good follower. She knew that Nell could help her get what she craved, even if the path towards that goal seemed questionable.

Both Amy and Petunia were too entangled to leave, but Nell wasn't too worried about the blonde. Something in Petunia's eyes, though… Nell knew that look. The sixteen-year-old, hot-tempered redhead was up to something.

Clapping once, Nell walked over to the other side of the altar, motioning for the girls to stand by Petunia behind the golden bowl. "Alright, the altar is set up. All we need to do is first light the incense, calling air to us, followed by fire, then water, then earth, and then spirit using the 'sacrificial' blood and our own blood, which carries our life force with it. Then, we circle around the altar. I will light the candles and vervain, and we will chant the incantation to call the spirits to us. I'll take it from there."

Everyone nodded in understanding.

"Amy." Nell handed her the lighter when she approached. "Light the incense and say what I told you to say. I'll take fire, and Jean, go stand by the bowl next to the cauldron and say as I instructed."

"Okay." Jean was a little hesitant in her walk, looking more doubtful than before. It worried Nell somewhat, but she was sure she'd pull through.

"Camille, you go over to the last bowl and say what I told you to."

The fifteen-year-old girl (and thus the youngest of the group) nodded and went over to the bowl.

"Petunia, stay where you are. You'll invoke spirit, and then the rest of us will come to you to complete that portion of the ritual."

"Aye, aye, cap-ee-tain," said Petunia in a mock-French accent and with a bored-looking salute that made Nell scowl.

With everyone in their places, Nell motioned for Amy to begin: "Air that is always with us, give us the knowledge we need to reach for what we desire. Air, come!" Her voice was loud and clear, Amy able to muster up enough confidence to keep it from shaking. She flinched after getting the lighter to flare, probably burning the tip of her thumb by accident. She lit the charcoal tablet and capped the small flame, putting it out.

Smoke began to rise, spicy and sharp with a sickly sweet undertone.

The lighter was tossed over to Nell, who stood up to her full height of five-foot-nine, chin up and shoulders back to puff out her large bust. In the candlelight, the locket around her neck sparkled, and Nell's lips curved into a smirk as she proclaimed, "Fire, full of passion and desire, surround us and inspire us to go forth towards our goal. Fire, come!"

She quickly bent down as she lit the lighter and brought it just above the vodka in the cauldron, making sure to jump back before she got burned. The flames flew upward in a blaze that made the others jump but only made Nell's smile widen as she capped the lighter's flame.

Jean bent down to pick up the pitcher of rainwater. "Water that nourishes us, let us feel what me must do to press forward. Water, come to us!" She poured the water into the bowl and then stood back up, looking almost fearful now. Regret stained her eyes, which travelled to meet Petunia's.

Were they planning something _together_? Nell's jaw set at this thought. Those two better not mess this up for them!

Bending down, Camille picked up a sack of pebbles and soil. "Earth that gives us shelter, keep us stable in our endeavor." Her voice wasn't as loud as the others, but it was enough for her to be heard. "Earth, come!"

Petunia snipped off the corner of the bag she'd swiped from the hospital a few days ago with the pair of scissors she had tucked into her skirt earlier. "Spirit that fills us all, allow us not to be denied our desires."

She bent down to pour the blood into the bowl, the others moving around the pentagram to get on either side of her. With one of the scissor's blades, each girl made a small incision in the meat of their palms, allowing several drops of their blood to fall into the bowl.

"Spirit come to us!" they chorused.

The girls then went to circle around the altar. It was a square table taken from the den, draped in a black sheet. The pillar candles were also black, along with two green tapers. There bones from small creatures Amy and Camille had found in the woods, and in the center of the altar was a black bowl holding a bundle of dried vervain.

"Black is the color of power," said Nell in a clear voice, lighting the lighter once again. She lit the pillar candles. "And green for prosperity." She lit the tapers. She then waved out the match. "And here is my call to the spirits of beyond the veil." She held the lighter up to one end of the bundle in the center of the altar. "We call you here with us to aid us in our goal!"

Nell put out the lighter's flame and lifted up the smoldering herb bundle. The smoke lifted and twirled through the air, which began to suddenly feel heavy and cold. As the herbs burned, the girls began the incantation, reading off the pieces of paper ringing around the altar:

"By our blood, for our flesh, we call to those that cannot rest. Help us now, we decree. Help us to our goals, now we set you free!"

They repeated this three times, their voices rising and echoing through the basement. With each word, the temperature dropped another few degrees, Petunia finally putting her shirt back on and Camille and Amy pulling their blazers over their bodies more tightly. After the third time, each was to state her desire, starting with Nell and moving clockwise:

"I desire success and power by my own hands and mind. I will _never_ need a man to take me there. I will get to the top _myself_." Her voice was loud and clear, words clipped, showing her distaste towards the situation that had brought her towards this decision.

Amy: "I desire safety from persecution and prejudice."

Jean: "I desire being able to achieve peace for myself and loved ones." Her eyes flickered towards Petunia, who gave the smallest of nods Nell barely caught. "That our light will match the rising darkness."

_No!_ thought Nell, teeth grinding, but she couldn't risk breaking the ritual now. It was too late. _You can_not_ ruin this for me!_

Petunia: "I desire Blessed Power to aid us at this hour." Her voice matched Nell's intensity from earlier, hazel eyes blazing. They looked almost like newly-polished topaz gems in the candlelight, which flickered even more erratically now. "That we shall not fall to those escaping through the opening we have created!"

Everyone was staring at Petunia now, and Nell scowled, hazel-blue eyes wild with rage. Camille looked back and forth between her sisters, eyes wide and filled with fear.

"Cammy," Nell growled through her teeth, "state your desire so we can finish the ritual." Her narrowed eyes never left Petunia's.

Heart hammering against her ribcage, Camille stuttered, "I-I desire… I d-de-desire…" Her eyes kept darting between her sisters. "I-I can't do this!"

Squeezing her eyes shut in attempt to stop the deluge of tears, Camille turned to run.

Rage turned to shock and fear as Nell saw her youngest sister do this, and she reached out for her as she and Jean screamed, "_Don't break the circle_!"

It was too late. The moment Camille passed between the pentagram points holding the incense and fire, her back arched as she gasped sharply. Her muscles tensed, and she fell forward, eyes and mouth wide as they could go. She began to seize as soon as she hit the floor, Amy screaming as Nell and Petunia rushed over to their sister, screaming her name over and over as the tears let loose.

"Get her upstairs!" Petunia demanded, rolling Camille onto her side as saliva and vomit dripped from the corner of her mouth. "NOW!"

The candles on the altar blazed upwards as all the others went out simultaneously, including the fire burning in the cauldron. The incense instantly ceased smoldering, the glass bowls holding the water and soil shattered, and the golden bowl containing the blood was thrown into the back wall by an unseen force. The temperature continued to drop, the air beginning to move like wind in a storm.

Not caring about Petunia giving her an order, Nell helped her carry Camille up the stairs, wanting to get out of that basement as quickly as possible. Amy and Jean were right behind them, but Camille kept convulsing, moaning and vomiting. Her limbs were going everywhere, and Nell and Petunia ended up dropping her at the top of the stairs, which led into the den.

"Someone turn on the damn lights!" Nell screamed, trying to keep her fear at bay to no avail. Things weren't supposed to go this way. They were all supposed to get what they desired. If Petunia and Jean hadn't tried to change it, the ritual would have worked! This was all their faults!

Jean ran to turn on the lights, the eyes of the portrait of Grandfather above the fireplace watching the scene unfolding before him with vexation. Amy helped Nell drag Camille further into the den and hold her down as Petunia sprinted up the stairs to grab the bible and rosaries in her parents' room. She nearly took out the entire drawer getting to them and almost tripped on her way down the staircase. She tossed the Bible to Amy, who caught it as Jean took her place.

"Do you even know what you're doing?!" Nell demanded. She wasn't about to lose her little sister just because Petunia did something _else_ wrong.

"More than _you_," Petunia seethed, venom dripping from her voice. It made Amy and Jean flinch. "Ames, open it up to Psalms. Remember that chapter Sister Mariangela read to us last week?"

Amy nodded quickly, already flipping through the leather-bound book. She stood at Camille's thrashing feet, trying to ignore the girl's roars and howls that grew less and less human with each passing moment.

Petunia bent down and touched the crucifix to her sister's forehead. Instantly, the scent of burning flesh attacked her nostrils as Camille bellowed in pain, her voice sounding like multiple others were joining it. Her back arched sharply, Nell and Jean having to press down with all their strength to keep her down.

"I believe in God, the Father Almighty," Petunia shouted, keeping her as clear and full of confidence as she was able, "Creator of Heaven and Earth, and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord; Who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary…"

As Petunia said the Apostle's Creed, Camille's shrieks grew in intensity and deepened in pitch. They began to sound more like something between a growl and hiss, face contorted savagely. When her eyes opened, they were entirely black, only on occasion flickering back to those blue orbs her sisters recognized and loved.

Tears streaking her cheeks, Petunia screamed the Lord's Prayer, followed by three Hail Mary prayers. She had to keep raising her voice, but the smell of burning skin made bile rise up her throat, and it was getting harder and harder to yell over her sister's wails. Her throat was beginning to feel hoarse, and she was begging in her mind for God to save Camille.

_She doesn't deserve this! Damnation, take _me_!_

"Glory be to the Father!" Petunia shrieked, her voice high-pitched as her throat continued to feel sore. "And to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost! As it was in the beginning, is _now_, and shall ever _be_! _World without end_!"

"AMEN!" The other three chorused with the redhead.

"Amy!" Petunia shouted.

Swallowing, Amy began to read in her loudest voice, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice from shaking as her body trembled. "Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners or sit in the seat of mockers!"

The convulsing got worse, Nell and Jean beginning to lose their grips. Petunia pressed down one shoulder as she held onto the rosary, and the three girls cried in fear, all praying for things to become well again.

"… Not so the wicked! They are like _chaff_ that the wind _blows away_! Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the assembly of the _righteous_!" Amy's hands shook as she held onto the Bible. "For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will _perish_!"

The thing inside of Camille roared, her voice warped as it echoed throughout the manor.

Once again, Petunia began to recite the Lord's Prayer, everyone else joining in. Camille howled, back arching. Amy went to pin down her legs, but the fifteen-year-old threw them all off with strength she shouldn't possess. She hissed and spat, the crucifix's shape burned into the center of her high forehead. She lunged for Petunia, who shrieked in fear as she fell back, staring into those black pits that had erased any trace of Camille Beatrice Dedmund.

"Petunia!" Amy called, leaping forward to tackle the demon-possessed girl before she could hurt her best friend. "Leave her!"

Camille threw off the short girl and then began to attack her, Nell frozen in shock as Jean tried to save Amy. The copper-haired girl found herself thrown against the stone wall next to the fireplace before she had the time to think, black spots ringing her vision.

"AMY!" Petunia ran for her, accidentally knocking over Nell in the process.

Everything moved quickly. Nell could only stare, feeling pressure on her wrists and ankles as well as something pressing against her chest. She gasped a breath, her skin tingling from the top of her head. She broke out in a sweat, but the inside of her body felt hot as her skin felt like it was about to freeze. She slumped to one side, unable to stay up without the world spinning around her. Black stars edged her vision. She barely saw Petunia try to rip Camille off of Amy, who was now bleeding heavily from lacerations on her chest—wait, what happened to her blazer and shirt?—and stomach. There were smaller cuts on her arms and hands, and one of the gashes stretched from just below her left breast to the right side of her long neck.

Nell was vaguely aware of Jean trying to keep consciousness and help Petunia, blind to her friend. It made anger bubble within Nell, but it was soon squashed by a wave of some unexplainable sensation her brain was unable to process.

The corners of her mouth turned up, however. She liked it. A word came to her: _Power_.

It felt like power.

Amy was dying, Nell now knew. And as that girl lost more energy, more power flew into Nell. Her smile widened another inch, long hair falling over her face as she watched Camille shove Petunia into Jean. She then snapped Amy's neck, the crack seeming to echo through the house. Amy stilled, eyes frozen in the wide-open state of fear and shock.

Gasping, Nell felt a huge wave of energy crash through her. It felt so good, and despite the dizziness, Nell pushed herself up onto her feet and approached Camille.

The small-framed girl was shaking. The spirits were too much for her frail body. She was going to die a horrid death. Whispers in Nell's mind told her this, lisping the words to where they almost sounded like a chorus of hisses. They said what to do, and Nell realized she had to help her baby sister…

"I'm sorry." One of Nell's arms wrapped around the girl's shoulders as the other took a firm hold of her head.

"NO!" Petunia screamed, leaping to her feet.

It took only a second. After a sickening **crack**, Camille collapsed, and Petunia froze before falling to her knees. Her eyes were wide in horror and disbelief.

"No…"

"We're going to have to hide the bodies," Nell said, eyes and voice void of emotion as she absorbed yet another wave of energy. The whispers deep in her mind rejoiced, and Nell welcomed the dizzying sensation.

When Petunia looked up at her, it was with confusion and fear. "Why?"

Her voice was soft. All of that earlier bravado had already evaporated. She was as weak as their younger sister. It had been her fault this all happened anyway, but at least Nell still got her power. No, this hadn't turned out as she had wanted, but at least she'd gotten _something_.

"We can't let this come back to us." Nell stared into Petunia's eyes. Behind her, she could see Jean hugging herself, eyes dilated and full of just as much fear as Petunia's. "I swear, if I'm being dragged to Hell, I'm dragging you with me."

Petunia's eyebrows knitted, bottom lip quivering. "You're already there."

_**I started getting the idea for this story when I first saw the commercials for the "haunted house" episode. I hope you liked the prologue, and I should have chapter one up soon. :) Also, while I was in the middle of writing this, it was midnight, and my friend thought it would be a nice idea to go up to my window and knock so I'd let her in. X/ That added to the fact I was home alone? All I needed was a storm to go along with the darkness. ... Which is actually going on right now... Huh... Not sure if nature wants to help give me a good atmosphere for writing or it just wants to scare me. XD Anyway, I hope you all enjoy Casting Shadows!**_


	2. I: Family Vacation

**Chapter 1: Family Vacation**

"_A vacation is like love - anticipated with pleasure, experienced with discomfort, and remembered with nostalgia." - Author Unknown_

At Bob's excited mention of another family vacation, the three oldest of the five Duncan kids groaned. Breakfast had, yet again, been ruined, and people _wondered_ how PJ and his siblings were able to stay so skinny. Bob set down his coffee cup and made a face as if to ask why his children weren't as excited as he had expected. Really, he should have known by now that his kids never liked his ideas of vacation. He'd done well with Hawaii, but Bob had always been cheap, and none of the Duncan kids were eager to hear what kind of "awesome deal" he had managed to swipe this time.

Pushing away his plate of half-eaten pancakes, Gabe demanded, "Great. Where are we going _this_ time?"

Looking away slightly with a hint of embarrassment, Bob took back up his mug, mumbling something into it.

Blinking, Teddy was still holding her fork with a square of honey dew melon on the end. "Did you just say 'Dead Man's Lake'?" She said this slowly in mild disbelief.

Her newly-tweezed eyebrows were arched, forming wrinkles in her large forehead. It was hard for her to believe how cheap her dad could be sometimes. She just knew that PJ and Gabe were going to be placing bets on Dad getting a cabin that hadn't been rented in years due to some sort of mysterious crime or something. She might even place her own bet. How else would Bob Duncan get a good price for a place by a lake unless it was "haunted" or if it was some ramshackle of a place? (Though Teddy was more likely to bet on the latter; a place said to be haunted usually _brought_ tourists rather than turned them _away_.)

Putting down his mug again, Bob bit the inside of his cheek. "I'm trying _not_ to say it, actually."

Teddy took her plate over to the kitchen island to dump the rest of her fruit into its container. "Well, I'm not going." She placed her plate into the sink and went to put the plastic container into the refrigerator. "You guys have fun."

Before Bob could say anything, Amy swooped into the kitchen, holding a yellow-and-blue mug of jasmine tea. "Oh, you are going." Her tone made it clear that there would be no room for argument.

"Oh, but Mom—"

Those large, bright blue eyes were sharp as Amy shot her daughter a look, eyebrows arched. "_Excuse_ me?"

Looking away as to avoid eye-contact, Teddy pouted lightly. "I'll go pack…"

It was decided that the family would leave on Thursday morning and stay at the lake house Bob had rented until Sunday morning. Gabe was upset about not being able to bring any of his video games. Amy had finally caved on allowing him bring his DSi, but he could only bring three games, and the charger was staying at home. Teddy attempted pretending to be sick, but Amy had become instantly suspicious when the blonde complained about having to miss the "fun" family vacation. Teddy had been sent downstairs to pack and was grounded for a week after the trip for lying and planning to have a party while the others would be gone—Teddy _really_ needed to learn to not keep her phone in her back pocket.

On the morning they were to leave, PJ frowned as he brought his suitcase down the stairs. He didn't want to go to a place called Dead Man's Lake. Just the name shot chills up his spine that trickled back down with an extra dose of dread. PJ didn't want to go anywhere _near_ that place.

Bob had shown them all pictures on the park's website a couple of days ago to ease nerves and show this wasn't going to be like the visit to the Family Fun Times Hiking Trail, which had been more of a field than a trail. Honestly, there'd been a shortage of _good_ trails in _Colorado_? Bob had tried to make up for the bad family trips with Hawaii, but even that had been a bit of a bust with the "curse", Amy's allergic reactions, and the series of events that made it seem as if the Duncans had been placed on Earth simply for others' entertainment.

"Teddy!" Amy called as PJ and Gabe arrived downstairs. "Get your butt up here, or the only thing you'll be bringing with you are the clothes on your back!" The short woman had her honey-blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail, loose strands falling around her face.

"Gosh, Mom, I'm _coming_!" Teddy called back up, voice filled with just as much annoyance as her mother's. There was a grunt that showed Teddy was wrestling her suitcase up the stairs, and Amy just shook her head before doing a head-count.

She clapped once, still looking exhausted despite the creams and powders used to add color to her cheeks and take away color from below her eyes. "Okay, you guys ready?"

PJ muttered a "Sure" as Gabe groaned with a tired nod. Bob kissed his wife after giving an affirmative, and Charlie, who looked the most awake out of the Duncan children, turned to look at the slumbering baby in the carrier. It had been placed onto the coffee table, and this was the first time Toby had fallen asleep since yesterday—apparently, he was nocturnal, much to the irritation of the other kids and the distress of the parents.

One hand over up at her chest, Charlie gave a small wave where her fingers curled in towards her palm. "Bye-bye, Toby."

"Sweetie," said Amy in a baby voice as she bent down to meet her toddler's grey-green-blue eyes, "Toby's coming with us."

Charlie bent her head down slightly, her sand-blonde pigtails falling over her shoulders. "Aw, nuts." She crossed her arms and pouted, making PJ smile. She was so cute.

However, Amy was not as amused, her eyes flickering up towards her husband's. "Bob, where'd she learn to say stuff like that?"

An eyebrow arched, the tall man made his way towards his youngest child, nostrils flaring as if smelling something. Toby was beginning to stir and whimper, and Bob sighed as he hushed the small boy and took him into his large arms. "Honey, I think Toby's going to need a change before we go."

Making a face, Amy got to her feet as she went to take Toby from Bob. "Aw, nuts."

She took up the baby bag as she headed towards the bathroom, Teddy finally making it up from the basement. She pushed the pink-and-black suitcase into the living room by the others, PJ smiling as he saw the iron-on patch on the front of the suitcase. It was shaped like a guitar, and PJ had put it there a couple of years ago. He still felt uneasy about the trip, but PJ had been wrong before—many times before. Mrs. Dabney had never murdered her husband, his gym teacher wasn't a werewolf, and Skylar's dad wasn't a mafia don.

PJ's imagination had always been known to run rampant. Maybe he should take his father's advice and sign up for a creative writing class.

"Ugh… Dad, do I have—"

"Yes, Teddy." Bob's no-argument tone wasn't as expert as his wife's, but Teddy still knew better than to talk back.

With a huff, the seventeen-year-old played with the shorter locks of honey-colored hair that framed her square-shaped face. The rest of her hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail, the loose curls falling to just above the space between her shoulder blades. She crossed her arms, shifting the leather jacket she wore, even though it was warm out. PJ remembered that it had been given to her by Mad Dog and Francis when Charlie was a couple of weeks old, but Teddy had stopped wearing it for about a year, saying she still smelled Charlie's puke in the pockets.

"Why do we have to leave so early?" Gabe complained, leaning against his green suitcase. His fingers were twitching, probably looking for a controller. It was sometimes joked that the thirteen-year-old should be sent to Video Games Anonymous meetings, the jokes growing after that incident at the airport last Christmas.

"Dad wants to torture us," Teddy murmured, arms crossed. Her pout looked like Charlie's had, and the little girl went over to hug her older sister. "Hey, Charlie." Her voice instantly lit up, and Bob rolled his grey-green-blue eyes.

"Ready!" Amy came back into living room, Toby yawning as his lids began to slip over his cobalt blue eyes that were already beginning to fade to hazel. Amy secured him back into the carrier and ordered, "Let's hit the road!"

Bob took up his and Amy's bags and began to chant, "Sar-an-ade! Sar-an-ade!"

PJ shook his head as Amy hissed, "Not now, Bob!"

"Yes, dear…."

It was a five-hour drive to the house. According to the website, it had been one of the first houses on the lake. The area had been privately owned by a wealthy family from 1879 to 1960, when they had been forced to sell their land to pay off massive debts. They had also owned a Catholic school in Denver, which, too, had needed to be sold to pay off the debts. The school was now a community college, and the lake area was turned into a campground and park. Cabins of various sizes were built within the area of 2950 acres, along with hiking and biking trails, a couple of playgrounds, and some docks at the lake. It was a pretty popular park, but the house Bob had rented had been the original manor, which the family had vacationed at in the summers. It was large, but not many people liked to stay there.

The chills returned for PJ as he thought about this. This just had to be more evidence for the place being haunted, but he knew that no one else would agree with him. He had always been interested in the supernatural ever since being a little kid, something that had always frightened Amy—a fear instilled into her by her own mother. PJ would have to look stuff up when Amy was at work, learning from one of the nerdy kids in school a few years ago how to erase his search history and even make his browsing private.

Ghosts, ogres, fairies, magic… PJ had always been a believer, even as he grew older and "should know better" (to quote a teacher). As he looked over from his spot in the back seat and saw the large manor, he felt his stomach twist. There was just something about that house…, but what?

"Alright kids," Bob announced, pulling into a car port, "we're here!"

Gabe threw his hands into the air, like he was giving praise. "_Finally_!"

Charlie clapped, and Teddy sighed in relief. She, Gabe, and PJ had been in the back seat, Charlie and Toby in the middle row. Charlie had been singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and "Pop Goes the Weasel" for the first two hours. It had been such a relief when she ended up tiring herself out and slept until a half-hour ago when she began to sing "Alouette", "Sippin' Cider", and "Ring Around the Rosy". At the end of each song, Toby would babble, wave his arms, or squeal, making the young girl laugh and clap.

With a yawn, Amy stretched and cracked her back. "Ah, that was the best nap I've ever had. Good job with picking the car, Bob."

"Thank you," Bob responded with a touch of pride. Everyone got their baggage, heading towards the house. Bob had received the keys from the front desk when they passed through the park's entrance, and he unlocked the double French doors that led into a spacious den.

"Wow," said Teddy, eyes wide in appreciation. "I almost don't mind being grounded when I get home."

"You actually did good, Dad," Gabe agreed, nodding his head as he dragged his suitcase over by the nearest wood-framed couch.

Easing into the manor and leaving his navy suitcase by the door, PJ went over to the huge fireplace, spotting the portrait above it. It looked like it'd be taller than him, but it only showed an older man's head, cutting off just below his broad shoulders.

"Nope, creepy picture." He pointed at it, seeing if anyone else was as unnerved as he was.

Teddy and Gabe shook their heads as Bob told him that he was being silly.

Watching the portrait, PJ moved from one side of the fireplace to the other and back. He turned back around to the others and gave a nod. "Yep, the eyes follow you."

Charlie clung to Amy's hand and looked over at her baby brother's carrier, which Bob took to the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table from where Gabe was now lounging.

"Why is Toby here?" asked the toddler.

Amy looked down at her little girl, who was starting to sound too much like Gabe for comfort. "You know what? You're just gonna have to get over that."

Everyone claimed their rooms, and both PJ and Gabe were glad to see that each would be getting his _own_ for once. Teddy was happy to be on the second floor instead of in the basement, though she was going to see what it was like sharing a room. Charlie followed at her heels as she went up the stairs, and PJ decided on the first room, across from the restroom. There was an iron cross nailed above the bed, and there was a crucifix hanging to PJ's right. The bed was pushed to have the headboard in the center of the back wall, the frame made to look like it had been fashioned from tree limbs collected from the nearby woods.

"Okay," PJ whispered to himself, trying to calm his heart and stop the tingling feeling running down his back, "we're going to have fun here." He unzipped his suitcase, but when he turned around to the dresser, he saw that all three drawers were already open. "Uh… Gabe?" PJ threw his clothes back onto the bed.

In only a moment, Gabe was in the doorway, his own room next door. "Yeah?"

"Stop messing with me." PJ put his boxers into the top drawer. He was still a little peeved at his younger brother for that prank he pulled several years ago after they watched _Darkness Falls_. Of all the times for PJ to lose his last baby tooth…

The younger Duncan boy shrugged, looking puzzled. "Stop what?"

"You opened the drawers." PJ put his pajamas into the top drawer as well before closing it.

"Why would I do that?" Gabe crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. There was always that small glisten in his dark brown eyes that said his mind was working, probably thinking of a way to pull on a prank on either PJ or Bob—both easy targets according to him. "Did it hurt you?"

PJ stopped in his unpacking, eyebrows knitting as his blue eyes sparkled in thought. "Um… no."

"Did it embarrass you?"

"No…"

The younger of the two just shook his head, looking almost insulted. "Do you know _anything_ about my work?" He left to continue with his own unpacking.

Blinking, PJ looked back at the pine wood dresser. The top drawer remained closed, but the open ones made the eighteen-year-old boy's heart pick up speed again. All of his earlier feelings about this place flooded back, and his eyes moved over to the crucifix.

"You gonna help me?" he asked softly, voice almost pleading.

Behind him came a heavy **thud**, and PJ let out a small gasp as he whirled around, nearly stumbling back. The iron cross was on the ground, almost a foot from the wall. It was in the sunlight filtering in through the partly-closed blinds in front of the square window, and PJ looked at the cross from where it had been, above the bed. There was no way it could have simply fallen almost _five feet_ away from there.

There was something in the manor.

_**Little slow at first as compared to the prologue, but it will start to pick up again soon. :) Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter, and I'll try to get the next one up soon! :)**_


	3. II: Story of Dead Man's Lake

**Chapter 2: Story of Dead Man's Lake**

"_Believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear." - Edgar Allan Poe_

After ten minutes of staring at the shirtless man on the cover of her book, Amy actually began to read it, a glass of iced, sunflower tea on the table next to her and Toby fast asleep inside. The double doors were kept wide open in case Amy needed to get to him, but _once_ asleep, Toby tended to remain that way for several (glorious) hours. It had given her plenty of time to sip her tea to cool herself down from the heat that practically radiated off of the pages. She'd spotted a corner of the book poking out from beneath Teddy's pillow a couple of weeks ago, quickly finding out that it was not a harlequin romance, but an erotica novel given to her by a friend that had recently turned eighteen.

"Oh, Quentin, so innocent…," Amy swooned in a low tone, bringing the book to her chest as her eyes closed, face going up to the sky. It was warm day in early August, allowing for the others to head down to the lake and leave Amy alone with Quentin Lockehart and Josephine Rosencranse. Amy could easily see what had drawn Teddy to this novel, but that didn't mean the teenager was off the hook for having it in the first place.

Eyes quickly becoming glued back to the scene, the woman of forty-three years didn't even notice the pot-bellied, elderly man emerging from the wooded area with a large bag of trash thrown over one shoulder and tan gloves donning his large hands.

"So it's true."

That deep, gruff voice made Amy jump and bite back a yelp, the book flying out of her hands and hitting the deck floor with a soft **thump**.

"Little jumpy, ain't ya?"

Taking a deep breath, Amy patted her chest over her heart. Her bright blue eyes locked onto the grey ones of the old man, who looked to be past sixty years of age. His wispy hair was grey and white, and his back was slightly hunched. Amy sighed and picked up her book, asking, "Yeah, when I'm not expecting anyone to be here! What do you mean 'it's true', anyway?"

Coming closer to the deck, the man set the bag onto the ground, his back straightening. "I didn't think my son was serious when he said that there was people staying in the old Dedmund manor. Ever since my brother and I bought this place, only three other families stayed here, leaving after the first night."

_Oh, great,_ thought Amy,_ with the 'great deal' Bob got on this place, I _knew_ there had to be a catch_. "So what is it? Termites? Weird smell at night?"

The man chuckled. "Ah, a sense of humor. That might help ya a bit. Nah, the families always got scared off." He gave a nod at Amy's widened eyes. "Just a few years ago, this psychic investigation team came to the house to figure out what the families—"

The surprised expression on Amy's face quickly morphed to her "you don't lie to Mama Bear" look. "_Ghosts_? _Really_? You're going to have to do better than that. Besides, if it was really haunted, there'd be people tripping over themselves to stay here for the night."

"There are." He nodded again. "'Specially around Halloween, but most don't pay. They're dared to stay here for a whole night, and they leave not long after the clock strikes three, running like the devil himself is after their soul. And some even claim that to be the very case. This house used to belong to the Dedmund family, a wealthy family back in the day. They had three daughters, who spent a weekend here with a couple of friends. That first night, only three girls woke up in the house, around three in the morning the stories go, truth probably long-lost. The three girls found the youngest Dedmund girl and their friend dead. The friend was drowned in the lake after what looked like being tortured, and then the Dedmund girl was shot in those woods—suicide, the story goes."

He turned to point where he'd come from earlier, and a chill crawled up Amy's spine.

"An altar was discovered in the basement, everything black and little critter bones on it."

Amy clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling sick but unable to stop listening. Part of her wanted to tell the man to stop talking and go away, but a larger part wanted—_needed_—to hear, as if feeling some sort of kinship with one of the people mentioned. How so? A bell was ringing in her mind, but it was so far back, it was no more than the barest of vibrations.

"Rumor has it that that youngest girl had been dabbling in the black arts or devil worship or sometin' like that and used the other girl as a sacrifice. But after she did it, she was overrun with guilt, got the revolver kept in her pop's bedroom, and shot herself in the woods, waking up the others. No one necessarily knows how much of this is true, but not long afterwards, things went bad for the Dedmunds, more rumors poppin' up that the youngest girl had placed a curse on her family or something. And almost everyone that has stayed here has said that both of those girls haunt the place."

Fingertips tapping along the side of her book, Amy questioned, "And _why_ are you telling me all this?" She had to work to keep her voice even. The tale had really unnerved her. She didn't believe in ghosts—she was still iffy on the whole afterlife thing, really—but the story of the altar and the 'black arts' made that bell ring just a little bit louder.

"You seem like a nice woman," the old man replied, "and I have a gut feeling that something might happen this time. Sometin' more than just scarin'. You should probably leave with your family. I'll even make sure you get your money back. My son may not be happy 'bout it, but he'll get over it."

Amy scoffed, but it sounded half-hearted. "Oh, please. Tell it to the Mystery Gang. Or call Ghost Busters. As for me"—she held up her book—"I'm going to get in some reading before the _real_ monsters come: my husband and four kids."

The old man sighed and heaved up the bag of garbage back over his shoulder. "May the Lord watch over you and your family, ma'am."

He left, and Amy tried to find her place in the novel. Quentin was caressing Josephine so softly, moving slowly and gently, so inexperienced compared to his goddess but wanting so much to please her…

Just as fireworks began to explode right off of the page, Toby began to whimper from inside, sounding like he was about to begin screaming. Quickly, Amy set the book down onto the table to where she could easily pick it back up to the right page later and rushed over to her youngest son to cradle him before he began those cries that should be way to loud for someone so little.

"Shh, shh…," Amy cooed, picking him up and holding him up to where he was looking over her right shoulder. She began to bounce lightly on her heels as she slowly swayed from side to side. "It's okay, Toby. Mommy's here. She's here."

As she bounced, Amy felt a chill pass through her, making her stop and look around. Toby's whimpers were only small sniffles now, and there was low thumping coming from below. It set Amy's heart into a canter, and she began to take deep breaths to calm it. That old man's story was just stuck in her head. Old houses always had weird noises going on in them. Even the Duncan household had weird noises echoing through it every so often, which was why PJ had slept with Bob and Amy until he was eight (and too big to fit in their bed with them).

Moving from side to side, Amy tried to ignore the goose bumps rising on her arms. Even though it was just below eighty degrees outside, it felt like the temperature had dropped to just below sixty in the room. Amy picked up a spare blanket at the end of the crib, wrapping Toby in it as she laid him down again. He was quiet again, but his eyes were still open, staring up at Amy. He wiggled and made noise, Amy smiling down at him.

"Are you ready to actually stay awake so you can fall asleep at night for once?" Amy's tone was like caramel, overly sweet as she spoke in baby talk. She was still fairly tired from being up last night, and she decided that another nap might be nice. "Mommy will stay here with you." She moved to the couch and laid down, hearing the soft **hush, hush** of Toby wiggling in the crib.

As Amy closed her eyes, the thumping started again, louder this time. She groaned mentally and rubbed her arms. Why was it so cold? Was the AC on the fritz? Amy would get Bob to check on it later. For now, she just took the quilt draped on the back of the couch and pulled it over her body, ignoring that paranoid part of her mind telling her that she wasn't alone in the house. She couldn't get that stupid story out of her head, and from behind her eyelids, she saw images of a room lit only by candlelight. There was a five-pointed star drawn on the concrete floor in what looked like chalk, and in the center of the star was a square table draped in black cloth with black candles, two green candles, a small bowl with smoke rising from it, and… bones?

Heart speeding once again, Amy's eyes flew open as she gasped, jolting up into a sitting position. She could have sworn someone was standing right over her, but… the image was fleeting, like a dream beginning to disappear from memory after the alarm began to blare. Amy could only remember large blue eyes. She thought she remembered lips moving, but she had no idea what the person could have been saying.

Sitting up, Amy listened to the house. The thumping had stopped, and Toby had quieted, falling back to sleep. The mother began taking deep breaths, murmuring the Apostle's Creed beneath her breath out of habit. When she was a little girl scared of any "bogymen", her mother would have her pray with a rosary. Even now, Amy still went through the prayers to calm herself down, even if she didn't necessarily believe in the meaning behind them anymore.

Once calm, Amy decided she would just go back to her book and get that nonsense about ghosts and dead girls out of her mind.

_**Yep, Nell, Petunia, and Jean had hid the real story of what had happened at the house, saying Camille had killed Amy and then shot herself. Well, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! :)**_


	4. III: Hail Mary

**Chapter 3: Hail Mary**

"_There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it." - Buddha_

After several hours of goofing around in the lake and attempting to sunbathe, Teddy decided to go back to the manor so as to avoid spending the rest of the weekend in oatmeal baths or covered in aloe. The breeze coupled with the warmth of the day had dried her hair to where it was barely damp by the time she approached the large house; she wore a white strapless top and denim shorts over her sports bikini, the cool water of the lake having felt heavenly on such a hot day.

The necklace Spencer had given her as a "Thank you for giving me a second chance" gift was back around her neck, resting on her collar bone. The charm was little tree enclosed in a circle, crafted from silver-colored wire and with tiny pieces of rose quartz crystals making up the leaves. It was a nice necklace that Spencer had made himself with lots of help from his much-craftier cousin, Suzanne (and Teddy had made sure that Suzanne was his _actual_ cousin). It was to show that Spencer was serious about this relationship and would put in all the work he needed to for it to work.

Stopping at the first step leading up to the deck, Teddy cocked a hip, staring at the book her mother was reading.

"So"—the sudden sound of her voice made Amy jump and drop the book with an oath—"_you_ can read it while _I_ can't."

Taking a deep breath, Amy bent over to retrieve the novel. "_I'm_ an adult. I can do what I want, seeing as _I'm_ the one that makes the rules." She began flipping through the book to get to the page she'd been on. "What are you doing back so soon?"

Teddy skipped the first step and hopped onto the platform, throwing her fuchsia-colored towel over the top rail of the waist-high wall rounding the deck. "Your genes that keep me from getting a tan."

"Blame your grandmother," Amy replied half-heartedly as she began to read again. "That's what I always did."

"Yeah, well, it sucks sometimes being so pasty-pale." Teddy had gotten heavily teased once as a kid when she wore a white dress Aunt Diane had given her to school. It had ended with Amy having to speak with the teacher, principal, and vice principal along with the dress having to be discarded due to some blood stains—none of it Teddy's blood, of course.

Amy brought her glass to her lips before realizing the tea was gone. "That's why they make bronzer, dear. Now, would you get me some more tea? The pitcher is in the refrigerator."

With a heaving sigh, Teddy took the glass, knowing that she would only get into more trouble by being a brat and refusing.

Passing the crib, the blonde girl paused to smile at her baby brother. "Hey, Toby!"

The infant gurgled and waved his arms, looking like he was motioning at Teddy.

"Yes, I'm your big sister!" she cooed in a baby voice. "Have you had a good nap? I hope not, because I'm gonna want to sleep tonight, yes I am!"

Toby made a loud "Nyah" sound, and a chill went up the teenager's back like a bony finger crafted from ice raking over her spine, making her suddenly stand erect, heart thrown into a gallop. She breathed through her mouth, swearing she could see a thin wisp of mist as she exhaled, goose bumps exploding over her arms and legs. She shivered, and Toby began to babble more loudly, arms flailing. A shadow flew at the corner of Teddy's vision, and she whipped her head in that direction, wavy curls flying over her hunched shoulders. Her side bangs slid over her face as she looked around the room, tawny-brown eyes meeting the judgmental gaze of the man in the portrait over the large fireplace.

The temperature shot back up to how it'd been before when Toby's cries sliced through the stagnating air, the glass slipping from Teddy's hand as she jumped, jolted back into reality.

_Damn, I've been watching too many horror movies with the boys_, she thought, rushing forward to take the fussing baby into her arms, shushing and cooing as she lightly bounced from one foot to the other and back. Not long after she'd taken him out of the crib, Amy rushed into the manor.

"What happened?!" she demanded, eyes wide with the sort of fear Teddy remembered having felt seconds earlier.

_She's probably been watching too many horrors too. _"Toby just suddenly started crying, and it startled me, and I dropped the glass," Teddy explained, skipping over the other things. She didn't need her mother saying it was her imagination when that was already very obvious. "Sorry, Mom."

Shaking her head, Amy sighed and went around the shattered pieces of glass to the kitchen. "It's fine." The sound of cupboard doors and a closet door echoed through the area. "Where do you think the broom and dustpan are kept?"

"If there's even one here, I'd say the basement," Teddy replied, smiling as her brother finally began to calm down, reaching for her necklace. "You like the shiny, Toby? Yes, it's very pretty, huh? My Spency-wency made it to get out of the dog house."

"I don't care if he gave you a convertible with chests full of gold and silver in the trunk," Amy remarked, heading towards the basement door, which was almost directly opposite of the fireplace and portrait. "He's staying in that dog house until he proves he actually _deserves_ your forgiveness and second chance."

"Didn't you grow up in a house that taught forgiveness of sins?" Teddy questioned, setting Toby down into the crib, giving a small "Gak!" upon realizing the boy hadn't let up his grip on the necklace. "Give that back, Toby."

She carefully took his fingers off of the charm, rolling her eyes as Amy quipped, "No, I grew up in a _Catholic _house, where sinners were damned to Hell for eternity to burn and scream, their agony music to angels' ears."

The three older Duncan kids knew that Amy didn't necessarily get along with Grandma Petunia, who had been nicknamed "The Gatekeeper" by the Blankenhooper sisters. Petunia had cared more about making sure her family would be together in Heaven than what was going on with them on Earth. She'd been a distinguished figure in the church, no one ever believing that there could be any problems going on in the home. Hank had been strict as well, and both Amy and her elder sister, Diane, had grown up fearing that strip of leather hanging in the den, next to the kitchen.

That upbringing had probably been what brought about Amy's "no spanking" policy, which had worked well with all the Duncan kids except Gabe, for whom Amy and Bob had discussed many times in the past on whether to repeal the rule or not.

"Bible says to forgive anyway," Teddy muttered. Along with PJ, she was the one in the family that leaned more towards believing in a higher power, and she had started going to church with Ivy and had been once or twice with Spencer as well.

"Yeah, yeah." Amy descended the staircase a few steps, searching for a switch. "Ah-ha!" She finally found it a few more steps down. "Want to help me search, sweetheart?"

Again, this was a thinly-veiled command, so Teddy replied with an affirmative and followed her mother down into the basement. A slithery sensation began to slowly slide down her spine, and Teddy scrunched up her face in a grimace as she rolled her shoulders back in an attempt to dispel it. Having her room in the basement back home, Teddy had never really understood the fear of such areas. Yet, as she and Amy reached the bottom of the L-shaped staircase, she understood why it seemed to be a favorite setting for those "dark and stormy night" stories.

As soon as Teddy's yellow flip-flop-clad feet hit the grey concrete floor, it felt as if the temperature had suddenly dropped twenty degrees, the goose bumps returning. Amy flipped a second switch to light up the mostly-empty room. There was a door on the wall to the left, showing it was either a closet or another portion of the basement. There were hardened globs around the edges of the room as well as in the center of it, and Teddy was glad to see that Amy was rubbing her bare forearms as well, proving to Teddy that she wasn't just imagining things right now. However, if she heard any creepy children's giggles or a deep voice rumbling, "Get out," Teddy was going to run as fast as her thin legs could take her.

"There." Amy quickly spotted a large bucket in the far corner near the closed door. It held a broom, dustpan, duster, mop, and some old rags.

As the older woman went to retrieve the broom and dustpan, Teddy walked around the perimeter of the room, kicking at one of the larger globs by the wall, realizing that it was dried wax. There must have been candles lining the room at some point, and Teddy wondered why they hadn't been cleaned away. She went to the center of the room, finding a few faded black spots as well as drippings similar to the others. The candles had all been white, reminding Teddy of those séance scenes in shows and movies. Was this more of that haunted shtick? How about the air and shadow? A weird hook-up for the AC and lights?

"Come on, Teddy." Amy began to go up the stairs, pausing at the light switch and waiting for her daughter to get in front of her. "I don't really like being here. I'm just going to keep this in the kitchen."

"Yeah, it feels pretty creepy down here."

"_Don't break the circle!"_

Teddy froze, Amy running into her, forcing her forward. She caught herself on the step in front of her, only hearing garbled noise as her mother spoke. A force flew right through Teddy, knocking her forward again as soon as she got upright, Amy quickly coming forward. Still, Teddy could not understand anything being said.

It was like when Madame Duval would speak rapidly _en français_, nearly no one in the classroom able to follow anything save one or two words. Only, here, Teddy understood nothing. She was unable to comprehend anything but for that worried and anxious tone—the fear. She felt Amy pulling her up the stairs by one arm, but it was like her entire body was numb. She tried to open her mouth, but the muscles would not react. She was vaguely aware of her legs stumbling along to help Amy carry Teddy's weight up into the den, but it was like she wasn't even there anymore. She had no control, not consciously.

"_Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…"_

Black stars began to descend over Teddy's vision, looking like dark pixels appearing at the edges and slowly working their way inward.

"… _blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb…"_

Her shoulders slumped, limbs becoming heavy as her muscles began to shut down.

"… _Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners…"_

Her legs gave way, Amy collapsing with her. Teddy thought she heard a shriek and felt the edges of the stairs digging into her body. The world continued to darken.

"… _Now and at the hour of our death…"_

Unexplained pressure pushed down on Teddy's body as if trying to shove her downwards into the earth. Amy had thrown the broom and dustpan down somewhere, pulling the teenage girl up by the wrists. She was screaming. Was that anger? Worry? Fear? Desperation? All mixed with other emotions Teddy could no longer remember to name?

Finally, as Teddy's body was dragged upwards into the den, her lips finally moved, one word managing to escape: "Amen."

She then gasped as her upper body shot up, making Amy fall forwards and have to catch herself. Teddy's legs pulled up, and she doubled over, gasping and coughing, the pressure feeling like thousands of thin, bony fingers slipping away from her skin, their grips lost. The black stars retreated, and Teddy quickly scrambled away from the stairs and into the den, hearing Toby beginning to wail again. Teddy pressed her back against the wall next to the door, one hand over her heart and the other over her throat.

"What was that?!" Amy demanded, slamming the basement door shut, and looking from one child to the other as if debating which one needed more immediate attention. After a second, she finally darted over to Toby and brought him to her chest before going to kneel in front of her eldest daughter.

Breathing still quick, jagged, and shallow, Teddy shook her head, the movement more like a shiver. "I have no idea…." She then blinked, the movement slow as her eyes remained distant and clouded. Her pupils seemed to dilate, Amy gasping and rushing towards her purse to get her cell phone when Teddy finally spoke again, getting to her feet: "Well, I'm going to start cleaning up the—"

She caught her mother's frenzied, worried look as she held her Samsung Glyde in one hand and clutching a whimpering Toby to her body with the other.

"What?" asked Teddy, brow furrowing as she attempted to decipher her mom's expression and settled for it being due to the broken glass. "Look, I'm sorry about the glass!" She picked up the broom. "No need to act like someone's dying or anything."

_**Okay, be honest: Who yelled "Don't go in the basement!"? X3 I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and to who requested Bob and Amy romance, sorry there was none in this chapter, but there may be some later on. However, as a friend and I discussed before, characters having sex in a horror doesn't always work out well, haha~ Anyway, I'll try to get the next chapter up soon! :)**_


	5. IV: Storm

**Chapter 4: Storm**

"_A cat bitten once by a snake dreads even rope." - Arab Proverb_

The sky had gone from blue to grey much too quickly for it to have been natural. PJ, Gabe, Bob, and Charlie were soaked from the heavy rain when they were barely five feet from the manor. The sheet of bullet-like drops made it hard for them to see, Charlie burying her face into her father's sodden shirt as they ran for the deck, Bob muttering praise to find the door unlocked. Inside, Amy was tossing a few logs into the fireplace, and PJ shivered, swearing the temperature in the manor was much colder than it should be.

"Hey, sweetie!" Bob greeted, closing the door behind him and setting Charlie down onto the floor. He caught the dark pink towel his wife tossed to him and used it to dry Charlie off.

"Hey, Bob." Amy rubbed her arms and then threw another log into the fireplace. She then began to look around. "Oh, darn it! I must have forgotten to grab the lighter."

"I'll go see if there's one in the kitchen." Gabe was already on his way there, probably wanting food more than anything.

Bob announced he'd check their bedroom, and PJ was heading towards the staircase so he could get into the shower and then change. Everything looked alright so far, and he hoped it would stay that way. At his door, he hesitated before turning the handle but finally went in, looking around to make sure that everything was still in place and that there weren't any creepy ghosts hanging around. He had used to think it might be cool to see a ghost, but he had been quickly reminded of that old saying: "Be careful what you wish for."

The iron cross was still on the nightstand where PJ had put it earlier, and the crucifix was still hanging on the wall by the dresser. The drawers were all closed, and his suitcase was still against the wall in the far corner. The bed was still made, and the window was closed. On the top of the dresser was a plastic bag of loose incense as well as a large abalone shell with a bundle of dried desert sage in it. There was also a white, heat-proof bowl filled with sea salt, a pack of charcoal tablets next to it. He placed a charcoal tablet onto the salt and got a lighter from the top drawer, keeping the flame against the tablet until it began to glow. He then blew on it a bit until it turned red, and he then put a large pinch of incense onto the tablet, smoke soon beginning to swirl upwards.

Once in the bathroom, PJ remembered how that was the setting for attacks in horror movies, so he kept the shower brief, trying to keep himself from looking directly at the mirror. As he dried off, his head rose to where it was at the corner of his vision, an image flashing in the glass, positioned to where it would have been behind him.

"Oh, sh—!" PJ jumped back, nearly hitting his head against the wall. He was now facing the mirror, but no one was shown in the glass but his own frightened expression.

He could have sworn he'd seen someone. A girl with shoulder length blonde hair that partially hid her face, mouth open like she wanted to say something but knew it would go unheard. She'd been dressed in only a bra and knee-length skirt, bleeding lacerations covering her torso.

Quickly, PJ got dressed and practically threw himself out of the room. He stayed in the middle of the hallway for a few moments, on all fours as he tried to regulate his breathing and slow his galloping heart.

_Calm down_, he told himself. _It could have been your imagination. You were expecting to see something and did_.

Wasn't that something the people in the movies always told themselves? That it was all in their heads while everyone in the audience groaned, wanting to yell at the characters and tell them that they needed to face facts?

There was comfort in denial. PJ wasn't ready to "face facts". His mom had seemed fine. She'd been here all day and looked as if she hadn't dealt with anything freaky, and Teddy was probably in hers and Charlie's room, likely texting Spencer, Ivy, or both.

Getting up, PJ could hear his sister speaking, and he saw that her door was open halfway.

_Guess she's doing a video_. He headed that way, pausing in the door as Teddy continued on, not seeing him.

"… how they say 'don't go into the basement!'" Her voice went up in a shrill falsetto as her eyes rolled up to the ceiling and her free hand waved as if to feign fear. "But it _was_ totally creepy down there. Next time, Mom can go down herself. She even freaked out for a bit after we came back to the living room, but I have _no_ idea why. She just kept asking if I was okay." Teddy shook her head. "All we did was go down, get the broom, and come back up. Mom's always been pretty weird, though. At least I know she cares." She gave a big smile, her dimples accenting it. "Well, we should be making s'mores soon, so I better get down there before Dad hogs all the marshmallows and chocolate. Wish me luck, Charlie!"

She shut off the camera, jumping when she finally caught sight of her older brother at the door.

"Oh gosh darn it, PJ!"

Sometimes it seemed like _Charlie_ knew more swear words than Teddy did, and PJ couldn't help but laugh at her exclamation.

"It's not funny!" she yelled at him, hurling a pillow his way, which he caught easily. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry, sis." PJ tossed the square, red-and-white pillow back to her. "So you went down to the basement with Mom today?"

Teddy went to set her camera onto the nightstand (there was only one bed, so it looked like she and Charlie would be sharing) and cracked her back before getting to her flip-flop-clad feet. "Yeah, I dropped her glass, so we went down there to find a broom. Why, want to go flying later?"

She bumped into him lightly as she left the room, PJ rolling his eyes.

"Ha-ha," he replied dryly. Teddy was the only one that knew about his interests in the occult and sometimes liked to tease him for it. It was never serious, and PJ was glad about that. "So—"

The violent crash of thunder that roared as the edges of a (hopefully) distant light flashed outside the window, the flights flickering and the eldest Duncan siblings jumping in surprise with Teddy instinctively flinging herself at her brother. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, wide eyes looking out the window. The sky was dark and angry-looking, pitch-colored clouds thick and keeping away any possibility of sunlight seeping down to deliver any sort of message of hope. PJ could feel his sister tremble as she tried to regain her composure and steady her breathing.

Ever since she was a little girl, Teddy had been terrified of thunderstorms. She'd begun to get over it as she got older, learning what thunder was and what caused it. After some time, she got to where thunder didn't bother her much when she knew one was coming, but this one had just come out of nowhere. It would be a few moments before Teddy regained composure, and PJ didn't mind holding her until then. As little kids, he used to plan pranks to scare her, always waiting for a thunderstorm to come so he could do it. The time-outs had always been worth seeing the terrified look on her face.

Those pranks had stopped when Teddy had done a prank of her own when she was six and him eight. She'd screamed louder than all the other times put together but had then fallen, making her body limp and motionless. It had looked like PJ had actually scared her to death, and he'd never done anything to scare her like that again.

Soon, Teddy let out a long, shaky breath before pulling away from her brother. She cleared her throat and smoothed down her hair. "We do not speak of this."

She brushed past him before he could respond, and PJ could see that her legs still shook a bit even while the rest of her body stayed steady as she walked out the door. She'd calm down eventually, but by the crying coming from downstairs, PJ figured that the two youngest members of the Duncan clan would need the most comfort during the storm tonight.

Amy was attempting to give Toby and Charlie equal attention while Bob pushed flaming pieces of newspaper between logs in the large fireplace. By the way Charlie kept glancing up at her baby brother, PJ could tell she didn't like having her mommy's attention divided. The little girl had always preferred to be in the center of everything, and the three older kids had already begun making bets on how long it would be before she tried mailing him to some far-off place like PJ had done with Teddy, Teddy had done with Gabe, and Gabe had done with Charlie. It was just as much as a Duncan tradition as putting that silver-wire star on the tree every Christmas.

Once PJ reached the bottom step, the lights shut off without even a flicker of warning, making Charlie shriek and Teddy jump somewhat. Gabe looked up from his DSi, and Toby began to cry harder due to his sister's outburst, and Bob finally came over to take the whimpering three-year-old, patting her on the back and whispering calming words as the fire grew and began to crackle. PJ helped Teddy get the s'more stuff ready on the coffee table, and Gabe tried to focus on his game as Amy finally began to get Toby to settle down and fall back to sleep.

"Ah, finally," she breathed in relief, gently setting him into his cradle, now right next to the couch on the end farthest from the fireplace. The end table that had been there before had been moved to behind the couch.

Amy looked around at the others. "Do _not_ wake him back up," she whispered harshly as lightning flashed once again, the boom of thunder almost simultaneous.

The mother suddenly looked deflated as she turned back around to take back up the wailing boy, Teddy muttering, "Try telling that to Mother Nature."

Just one sharp look from Amy's large, blazing blue eyes made the hairs on the back of the girl's neck stand up. She shivered and immediately went back to opening up a few more bars of chocolate.

"I'll see if there's some candles in the kitchen," PJ offered.

"I didn't see any when Teddy and I looked for a broom." Amy's voice cracked slightly at the end, PJ barely catching it.

Looking over at her brother, Teddy inquired, "You bring any candles?"

There was only the slightest of emphasis on the "you", showing that Teddy was referring to any taper or chime candles PJ might have brought for any spellwork that Skylar had taught him while dating—he was also teaching himself more when he was able. Teddy knew about the spell kit PJ carried around, contained several mundane-looking objects no one would really raise any eyebrows at unless they had any prior knowledge of it.

Also, it was likely Teddy had smelled the incense when she passed his room—loose incense smoked much more than the sticks or cones—and probably assumed that if he was willing to get caught by their parents with incense, he had probably smuggled in some candles as well.

Why were little sisters almost always right?

Bob went to retrieve something from the end table near him. "Here." Still carrying Charlie, who clutched his shirt and pouted as she tried not to whimper, Bob handed a flashlight to PJ. "Got to be prepared, right?"

Bob had been an Eagle Scout, something he'd wanted for both his boys and had gotten a little disheartened when both had declared scouts to be lame. (Maybe he'd have better luck with Toby.)

"Thanks, Dad." The flashlight was black and a little heavy despite being pretty small, but PJ was glad to have it. He hadn't been too keen on going up into the second story in pure darkness.

As he headed towards the stairs, Amy looked up from Toby (she was doing the bounce-shuffle-dance PJ always thought made her look like she had to use the restroom).

"Wait." She watched as PJ paused and turned to look at her, hand poised to turn on the flashlight. "Not that I'm complaining, but _why_ did you bring candles with you?"

Why Amy had to be so naturally skeptical of everything got very annoying sometimes, not to mention extremely hard for any of the kids to get away with anything.

"Well…" PJ thought quickly for an excuse, one instantly coming to mind. "You know, in case I met someone and I wanted to create a roman—"

"Stop." Amy held up a hand to emphasize the order. "I don't need any more. Just get them." She waved him off and went back to the dance, cooing soft words to the baby.

Exhaling softly, PJ twisted the head of the flashlight to turn it on and ascended the stairs. Lightning still flashed, the thunder right on top, and Amy, in her frustration, yelled at her husband for yet another ruined vacation. PJ faintly heard his father shout back about not being able to control the weather, and Teddy tried to call for peace while Gabe complained about his DSi acting up.

Outside, the wind picked up, screaming and howling through the branches of the trees that nearly enclosed the manor completely. The rain fell in sheets, hissing and groaning as they pounded on the roof as if trying to force a way inside. The lightning danced with its baritone partner, the spasms turning the haunting orchestra even more chaotic.

In his room, PJ quickly went through a smaller bag he'd hidden among his shirts, taking out the two column candles and some eight-inch tapers. He had holders he'd gotten from the thrift shop along with Skylar when she'd been living in Denver. He smiled at them; all were small and not very elaborate. Two were clear, and one was amber-colored. He grabbed the lighter and wrapped everything in a shirt to take them down into the den. It looked like Gabe had given up on his game and was roasting a marshmallow, sitting on one side of Teddy as Bob helped Charlie blow out a flaming marshmallow on her other side.

"Thanks, PJ," murmured Amy as she bounced Toby on her knee. He looked to be settled down, but the tired woman seemed to know if she didn't keep him occupied during the storm, he'd end up just crying again. "Set some up in the kitchen and that should be fine."

"'Kay, Mom." PJ did as told, lighting one of the white tapers and setting it on one end of the counter that covered two of the kitchen walls. He then lit another taper and set it at the other end. The crackling fire was ample light for now in the den, and PJ set the other candles on one of the end tables along with the third holder and lighter. The shirt went onto the couch as he went to grab a metal skewer and a marshmallow.

He then inched towards the fireplace, conscious of the man in the portrait watching him and his family as he did so. The man had a judgmental and arrogant look on his face, staring down at all of them in contempt. It made goose bumps spread over PJ's arms, and while he kept his marshmallow away enough from the flames to keep from getting burnt, he took out his cell phone to see if Skylar had texted him. Static played over the iPhone's screen when he turned it on before it winked out completely. His blood ran cold as he quickly put the mobile over onto the coffee table, trying to tell himself over and over that everything would be okay.


	6. V: Girl in the Camera

**Chapter 5: Girl in the Camera**

"_You need chaos in your soul to give birth to a dancing star." - Freidrich Neitzsche_

Once everyone was stuffed with s'mores, Gabe's DSi had already died (though he grumbled it should have had a few more hours of life), and Bob brought out a deck of cards. After a few hours of various games, it was getting late. Toby had (mercifully) fallen asleep, and Charlie was starting to yawn and rub her eyes, so Bob got up to take her to bed, Teddy following with a white taper. Gabe and PJ then went upstairs as well, each with his own candle.

PJ was careful to try and keep hot wax from dripping onto his hands as he took the yellow taper into his room, setting it onto his dresser. The incense and charcoal tablet were ash over the sand in the heat-proof dish, and PJ was wondering if he should wait until the morning to light the sage or if it might even be needed after all.

Besides the phones and Gabe's DSi, nothing weird had really happened. The house felt a little cooler than it should, but it was storming outside, so the temperature was sure to drop some. The storm was still raging hard has before, looking like it had no intent of stopping. By now, though, the orchestra had been reduced to white noise, only the occasional roar of thunder being the reminder of what was going on outside.

"PJ!" Teddy's harsh whisper was like a hiss followed swiftly by "_Ooh_! Son of a cookie!" when she hit her foot against the doorframe while trying to slide into PJ's room. "You've got to see this!"

She limped now, carrying over her pink video camera and looking very spooked. The two went over to sit on the foot of PJ's bed, and Teddy pushed the **play** button.

"_Hey Charlie,"_ began Teddy in the screen, her head taking up the majority of it, _"this is your big sister, Teddy, and…"_ A questioning sparkle lit up her tawny eyes, and a bit of static played over the screen, jumbling up the next few words. _"… already know by now I'm you big sister, so I have no idea why I keep saying that. _Anyway_…"_

"Um…" Why was she showing this to him?

"Hush!" she whisper-yelled. "Keep watching!"

Suddenly, video diary Teddy scrunched up her nose as she narrowed her eyes as she looked at the screen of the camera. _"Ugh, do I have a zit coming?" _She rubbed along her jaw, just left of her small chin.

"Eyes on the screen," Teddy growled, catching her brother trying to see the zit she claimed was forming.

Rolling his eyes, PJ did as asked, his blood running cold from what he saw next.

There was a little more static, but the majority of the picture was still fairly clear. Only part of Teddy's jaw could be seen as she reached over to tinker with the zoom, so when she came back, it was a portrait view, the space to her right visible. As she spoke, a mist formed behind Teddy. It quickly condensed, taking on a humanoid shape until a girl appeared. She was thin and wore what looked to be a school uniform, limp strawberry blonde curls falling over her hunched shoulders. She slowly looked up, huge sky-blue eyes looking sunken in her pallid face. PJ jumped at the sight of her, and Teddy's hand shook slightly as she held the camera.

"I… I swear she wasn't there when I was in the room," she whispered, voice shaking more than her hand.

"She's mouthing something." PJ pointed at the girl's lips, which were moving in the slow, emphasized way like when PJ and Emmett would try to mouth messages to each other across the classroom. "Can you zoom in?"

Nodding, Teddy pressed the **zoom** button and then one of the arrows to move the focus so they could look at the girl. The picture was slightly blurred, the zoom causing individual pixels to be seen; still, it wasn't too hard to make out the girl's features, even as lines of jagged silver scrapped across the screen.

"Dear God…" Teddy leaned forward, almost hitting her head against PJ's. "She… I think she looks a little like Mom in one of her old yearbook pictures… Doesn't she?"

"She does." PJ squinted and brushed some of his hair back away from his forehead. "What is she…?"

The girl's eyes were wide, brow pinched. Whatever her message was, she seemed to be trying to deliver it with great urgency. Static cut through her at three-second intervals, making it even harder to understand what she felt she needed to say.

"By their blood…"

PJ's eyes snapped over to his sister, whose voice had taken on a low, smooth tone he had never heard from her before. It was the sort of voice most expected from those stuck in some sort of trance-like state. Her eyes were blank and staring at nothing. Her hand had become completely still, though more and more static kept playing across the screen.

"Teddy…?" asked PJ gingerly, but it was evident Teddy could no longer hear him. He was suddenly reminded of what she was saying earlier about the basement and their mother freaking out for a reason she didn't remember. "Teddy!"

He leapt to his feet and then knelt in front of her, gripping at her shoulders and causing the camera to be flung away. Still, Teddy only stared, not seeing him, her voice still in that cool, silky tone that sent chill after chill chasing one-another down PJ's spine.

"By their blood, for their flesh…" Her pupils began to dilate. "They called to those that could not rest…" Her pupils rapidly shrank to pinpricks. "'Help us now!' they decreed…"

"Teddy!" PJ shook her, and Gabe arrived at the door, toothbrush in hand.

"What's going on?" He saw Teddy's face, dark eyes widening. "I'll get Mom and Dad!"

"No!" PJ turned around without letting go of Teddy, who kept repeating those lines over and over as if struggling to remember what came next.

Was it that girl in the video? Had she found a way into Teddy? What was she doing to her?!

"Look in my bag," PJ ordered Gabe. "Second drawer from the top, back right corner. Get out the small dark bottle." He groaned when his little brother gave him an odd look. "Just do it!"

"Okay! Okay!" Gabe did as told, and Teddy's voice rose in volume again, pupils growing until only thin bands of brown remained of her irises.

"'Help us now!' they decreed. 'Help us to our goals!' they said… and set them free."

She collapsed just as the final word left her lips, Gabe rushing over with the bottle and quickly handing it over to PJ as Charlie arrived in the doorway, looking wide awake now. She was staring at the space behind Teddy, a small smile forming on her face as if listening to someone praising her. Gabe noticed her there as PJ opened the bottle after shaking it. He had dabbed his finger with the mixture of essential oils inside when Gabe asked their baby sister what she was doing.

PJ was drawing a cross on Teddy's forehead with his oil-covered finger when Charlie pointed at the space she'd been looking at.

"Auntie Cammy says I'm pretty." Charlie gave that big smile that said she already knew it to be true but enjoyed the compliment nonetheless. "And she says I look like she did when she was little."

**XXX**

Groaning, Petunia made her way to the phone in her living room. She flipped on the lights, that old fear of the dark creeping back. She still hated basements, and she probably prayed on the rosary more than any nun or priest. She regretted her and her husband being so strict, causing their daughters to stray from Grace, but she hoped that the blindness she had caused them would be lifted.

Petunia could tell herself over and over again that she had only wanted to ensure that they would all stay together in Heaven, but ever since she was sixteen, she'd been doubtful that the Good Lord, even with His great mercy, would open back up His golden gates to the likes of her. Not after her part in such a devilish ceremony.

She sat down on the couch with a sigh. "Hello?"

"Petunia." The familiar, husky voice sounded urgent, forcing sleep away from the redhead. "I'm sorry for waking you, but we have a problem. I should have called you earlier, but I'd lost your number."

Like Petunia, Jean hadn't seen the need for a cellphone, and she kept all of her contacts in a notebook. The two had kept touch on-and-off over the years, but only that _thing_ they'd done still connected them. Otherwise, each would have been lost to the other years ago. They hadn't even really spoken since… Had it been '98 or '99? Petunia hadn't felt comfortable that Jean had continued on with that witchcraft stuff even after what had happened. The woman had even had the bad judgment to teach it to her children! Petunia lit a candle for the Winterbourne family every Sunday, asking for God to show them the way.

"What problem?" Petunia questioned, bright hazel eyes shining with worry.

"The manor." There was no need for her to specify which. "Your youngest daughter and her family are there. I got a call from my granddaughter, Skylar, who told me. She's friends with your younger daughter's oldest boy and girl."

"Patrick and Teddy," whispered Petunia.

She had named both of her children after her younger sister and best friend. Petunia had never forgotten Amy Diane Ferguson or Camille Beatrice Dedmund, and her eyes prickled as she thought of them again, a hand going to her heart.

"Two lives have already been taken," Petunia said in a solemn tone, lips rolling inward. "What more do they want? Nell's all the way in Chicago. Every man she's fallen in love with has either disappeared or gone mad!"

Jean was silent for a while, and the old radio in the corner of the room, next to the TV suddenly turned on. It made the old woman jump, and there was a voice attempting to come through the static.

"Pe… Pet… un… ia… Da… dan…g… er… da… nge… r…. K… k… ki… ll…. K… ill…. Fam… il… y…. F… am… il… y…."

Heart pounding, Petunia darted over to the radio to turn it off. She then practically ripped open the bottom to take out the batteries, only to see that there were none. The thing hadn't worked since the late eighties, the Blankenhoopers only keeping it around due to nostalgia.

The radio fell from the woman's shaking hands as she stared at the spot with wide eyes that shone with deep fear. She was supposed to be done with this!

"Petunia?!" screamed Jean over the phone, and the redhead raced over to it, still shaking.

Swallowing, she kept crossing herself over and over, her trembling hand nearly poking her eye rather than her forehead. "Dear Sweet Mary, Mother of God," she murmured. "It was my radio. It hasn't even _worked_ since…" She crossed herself once more and whispered Psalm 23 beneath her breath. Once done, she exhaled sharply, trying to get herself under control. "There's some_thing_ here. O-on the radio, i-it said my name a-and 'danger' and 'k-kill'. I-i-it al-also s-said…"

"Petunia." Jean's voice shook slightly, but she seemed to be trying her best to sound confident as to help Petunia stay calm.

"'Family'," she finished. "I think—no, I'm _sure_—it was t-talking about my family. Amy, my grandkids, and even her bum of a husband!"

The man had never stepped foot into a church before, which had been the biggest reason for Petunia's disapproval, and she had always prayed that the children wouldn't have to suffer due to that. Yet, even if they _had_ always been good, God-fearing people, would that have been enough to keep them safe from the evils of that house by the lake? Petunia wanted to call them immediately and tell them to get out. _Now_.

Jean was silent for a few more moments. Then: "They should be alright as long as they get away from there, but Skylar called me back after I told her the story—"

"You told her?!" Petunia was more shocked than outraged. She'd always known that the story couldn't stay silent forever, but she'd hoped that the Lord would have taken her into His arms before it finally leaked out.

"They need to be warned!" Jean defended. She exhaled sharply. "Anyway, Skylar said she could not get in touch with PJ. She's not sure if he was just busy, but she is very worried."

"I will try to reach them." Petunia's heart had gone back to its normal rate, and everything in the room seemed to be back to normal, though the hair on the back of her neck and on her arms still stood up on end.

She had that dark feeling of being watched, and she felt a sudden urge to phone Nell, whom she had spoken to on fewer occasions than even Jean. The only reason she knew what was happening with her sister was through Joyce Hunter, a friend that lived over in Chicago.

"I am sure everything will be alright, Petunia," the old witch tried to assure in her most confident voice. "We must stay positive, believe that there will be light again for us."

"But as you've said once in the past," murmured Petunia in a defeated tone, "the brighter the light, the darker the shadow that's cast."


	7. VI: Darkness

**Chapter 6: Darkness**

"_We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today." - Stacia Tauscher_

As Amy worked the tangles and knots out of her honey-blonde hair while staring at the bathroom mirror, she thought back to earlier today with Teddy and the basement. She'd been trying to forget about it, that scene mixing with that crazy old man's story about ghosts and devil-worship. There had to be some sort of explanation, but Amy kept arriving at a stalemate.

Teddy had been upset about getting her plans revealed and being grounded for a week upon their return, but how would acting as if she were blind and deaf to the world while stumbling up the stairs (most of it Amy pulling her) get any sort of revenge? It didn't make sense, and it really had looked like Teddy couldn't walk, her hands and fingers twitching randomly as her eyes stayed wide and blank, lips moving but no words ever coming out. If that was all an act—like if she'd heard the story as well and had wanted to scare her mother—then that would make Teddy one hell of an actress, even better than Amy herself!

And Lord knew _that_ could never be it.

So what had happened? Also, what about the glass? Had Toby really startled her that much? Or had there been something else?

With a small sigh, Amy returned the brush to her toiletry kit and retrieved her shampoo, conditioner, and soap before going to turn on the water in the shower. She then began to undress, trying to shake those thoughts out of her head.

They wouldn't leave. That scene and that man's words had made a permanent burrow in her brain, sniggering at her futile attempts to force them out.

As Amy began to wash her hair, she was almost surprised as a new memory floated up from the depths of her mind. It was when she had wanted to go see _The Amityville Horror_. It had recently come out, and just about everyone at school had already seen it. Amy had brought up the movie up to Diane on numerous occasions, tempting her with the idea of breaking the rules, as Amy had always done.

Diane may not have liked their home life any more than Amy, but she had long-decided on the course of simply following each rule by the letter so as to flow along easily until she could finally be free. Amy, on the other hand, had never had such patience.

Unfortunately, any movie, book, or song that seemed at all "devilish" to Petunia had been forbidden, and Hank had always backed her up (with that cursed piece of leather if deemed necessary).

"If you punish them with the rod, they will not die; punish them with the rod and save them from death" had been a proverb repeated often in the house. So many things had been labeled as sin, and the worst according to Petunia had been that Goddess Movement, more and more people turning towards what she automatically labeled as "heathen".

_The Amityville Horror_ fell into the category of the occult taking over the minds and hearts of the youth according to the Blankenhooper parents, and thinking back on it, Amy's biggest reason for wanting to see it had been rebellion. She and her mother had gotten into a huge fight about it when Petunia had discovered her trying to sneak out, and during the fight, Petunia had screamed, "I'm just scared for your soul, Camille!"

That was when the fight had come to a halt, Petunia's hazel eyes going round as she realized what name she had just uttered.

"Camille?" Amy's anger had washed away, replaced by confusion. "Mom, that's _Diane's_ middle name!" The anger had spiked once again. "You're always comparing me to her!"

Letting the suds wash down her body and into the drain, Amy went back through that memory, and she remembered staying up in her room the rest of that night, unable to sleep. Her room had been the closest to the living room, the thin walls keeping most conversations from being private. Crouched beside her album collection, Amy had played with a lock of her long hair, continually braiding and unbraiding it as she listened to her parents talking in the living room.

"I can't believe I called her that," Petunia had said through her crying. "Amy just looks so much like her!"

"Shh…," Hank had said in reply, likely rubbing circles in her back. "You miss her. I understand. I lost a loved one when I was young too. I don't think that hurt ever completely heals. Just keep in mind that you'll see her again one day."

There had been hesitation after that, Amy straining her ears.

Finally, Petunia had responded, "But I don't even know if she's where I want her to be."

"None of us do," Hank had replied, "but that's why we hope. That's why we have faith."

Amy began to work peach-scented conditioner into her hair, sticking mainly with the ends. Even now, she didn't know who her parents had been speaking of. She had never thought to ask, only giving her mom some space and following the rules for a while to give her a break from her usual attitude.

She remembered helping Teddy with her family tree project once, the girl only getting an A-minus (she was the only child who would actually sulk about that) for being unable to find anything about Amy's side of the family beyond Petunia and Hank. Hank's family had been a little easier to find information on, though if any documentation existed from before his mother came to America from Lithuania with her mother and siblings, they didn't know about it.

Petunia, on the other hand, looked to have changed her surname when she turned eighteen, her older sister Nell having changed hers to that same name. It had looked to be Amy's grandmother's maiden name, but Amy had never met either of her maternal grandparents. Had Petunia had a cousin or close friend named Camille?

Diane Camille and Amy Beatrice Blankenhooper. Those names must have great meaning to Petunia, but the woman had always been quiet about how her life had been before meeting Hank. She had always used the verse speaking of leaving the old family for the new to justify never wanting to speak of them, but Amy had always had a feeling there was much more than that.

Shaking her head, Amy rinsed the soap suds from her skin and the conditioner out of her hair. As she worked to get all of the conditioner out of her hair, she started seeing red trails streaking her skin, the same dark color staining her hair. The liquid began to feel thick and sticky, realization springing to Amy's mind as she yelped and fell out of the shower, the door of the stall banging against the wall.

Bob rushed in, and Toby had begun to cry.

"What happened?" Bob demanded, helping his wife up into a sitting position as he yanked a large, pink towel down from the rack.

"There's—!" Amy pointed at the still-running shower, the water clear and steam rising and spilling out into the small room.

Scrambling to her feet with Bob lightly protesting about any injuries, Amy stared at the mirror, but her hair was soaking with water, not blood. There were still a few suds on her shoulders and neck, and a puddle was forming around her feet.

"Honey?" Bob implored, trying to turn her so their eyes could meet.

He looked very worried, but he kept looking back, and Amy finally told him to calm Toby down. He kissed her on the cheek and rushed over to the crib.

Breathing deeply, Amy just stared into the misted-over mirror, using one of her trembling hands to wipe away some of the moisture. She looked alright, but suddenly Amy wanted nothing more than to leave the manor and head home.

As quickly as she could, Amy dried off and pulled on her underwear and light blue pajamas, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of the top. The silk felt smooth on her skin, water dripping over her back as she dried it best she could with the towel before putting it up in a high ponytail. The pillar candle in the corner of the room was almost half the size it had been, and Amy blew it out before scurrying out of the restroom, Toby finally settling down.

"That took a while," Amy commented.

"He was so fussy," replied Bob as he carefully set the baby into his crib. "He kept looking over at the bathroom and would start crying all over again. I think he knew his mommy was hurt and was worried." He smiled and came over to Amy to kiss her on the forehead and hold her close. "You okay? What happened?"

"I just slipped," Amy lied before her mind could even get the chance to suggest truth being best.

Was it even best? Amy had been having trouble sleeping the past week, she was still thinking about that man's creepy story, and then that thing with Teddy in the basement? That "blood" in the shower could have very well been her imagination.

"Go ahead and lie down," Amy told her husband, going over to the nightstand to take up the white pillar candle sitting there. "I'm still a little stiff and jumpy from the fall. I'm going to walk around the house for a bit and check the fireplace."

"You sure?" Bob moved the quilt and sheets aside on his side, which was closest to the bathroom, so Amy could sleep closest to Toby. "Want company?"

"No," Amy replied too quickly, making her husband give her a puzzled, concerned look. She cleared her throat and said, "You should stay here in case Toby wakes up again. I'll be right back."

"Um, okay," Bob responded as his wife left the room.

Heading down the short hallway and passing the staircase, Amy paused, thinking she heard one of the boys say something. She shook her head, deciding not to scold them for once. She actually preferred them skipping out on sleep if it meant they were staying together—the lack of screams and someone getting thrown was also a good sign.

Amy didn't really want to be alone, but she didn't want Toby to be left alone either. He definitely couldn't have been brought out here, and Amy just felt the need to try and find some answers—any answers. She found herself stopping next to the portable crib next to the couch she had tried napping on earlier today. The fireplace was dark, no embers in sight, and Amy placed the candle on the end table between the crib and couch, letting out a small hiss when some wax dripped onto her hand. The pain faded as quickly as it came, the woman turning slowly to stare at the door that led down to the basement.

Light flashed in the distance, flooding part of the room in white for a fraction of a second, the low **boom** bellowing seconds later. It sounded like the storm was beginning to move away, but there was another sound, Amy both hearing it and not hearing it.

It was like being near electronics, a pitch wailing too high to really hear, yet causing pain nonetheless. However, Amy didn't flinch at the pain like she normally would. All she could do was stare at the door, lips beginning to move to words she didn't know.

It wasn't until moments later she realized her lips were moving, and she stopped, finally flinching, her entire body seizing violently to where she nearly fell to the floor, sudden cold crashing into her body as that high-pitched wail returned, the pain intensifying until Amy's eyes watered. She squeezed them shut and pressed the heels of her palms against her temples, teeth grinding.

Through the pain, Amy could almost make out words, the pitches beginning to differ—there were two. It… It was an argument, Amy knew but unsure as of how. It was an argument, and one pitch wailed in tremendous rage while the other was… pleading. Again, Amy didn't know how she knew this.

The tears and immense pain blinded the woman, and as if her muscles had come to a decision while her mind still reeled, she leapt to her feet and rushed towards the double-doors leading out onto the deck. Just as her hands grasped the handles, her back arched, and pain roared through her body, starting at her feet and exploding up to her crown, forcing her down as the wails only got louder, the air crackling.

Black stars appeared at the edges of Amy's vision, and the high-pitched wails seemed to form words. Two names came to her: Amy Ferguson and Camille Dedmund. They were fighting, and Amy could just barely make out words from the Hail Mary prayer before slipping into unconsciousness.


	8. VII: Sleep

**Chapter 7: Sleep**

"_We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies." - Shirley Abbott_

"If you guys are trying to creep me out," Gabe declared, looking around at his siblings, "then you win. Game's over."

"We're not trying anything!" PJ hissed, making Gabe stop in his tracks. Ignoring him for the moment, PJ looked over at Charlie. "Who are you talking about?"

The little girl pointed at the same spot, and PJ motioned for Gabe to sit Teddy up and help him get her onto the bed.

"Aunty Cammy," Charlie responded, one of her fingers going into her mouth as she smiled. "She say she Gramma's little sister." She smiled wider, eyes sparkling as Teddy was finally lifted onto the bed, Gabe fluffing the pillow under her head. "She lived here in summer. She and her sisters and friends played a scary game in the basement."

"Of course!" Gabe groaned, throwing his head back. "Someone only Charlie can see and something 'scary' in the _basement_!" He made sure to keep his voice low enough so as to not alert Bob and Amy, who were in the master bedroom downstairs. "What's next? A creepy video tape? Is Charlie going to come up to my bed and whisper, 'They're heerree…'?"

"Who here?" inquired Charlie, looking up at the brunette.

"We're not making anything up!" PJ insisted. "Teddy was talking earlier about how after getting the broom from the closet, Mom freaked out. Teddy says she can't remember anything weird happening, but—"

Arms crossed and a wrinkle forming between his thick eyebrows (which showed him to be nervous but not wanting to admit it), Gabe interrupted, "Mom freaks out when one of us forgets to put 'milk' or 'soap' on the shopping list. One of the _joys_ of having such a spastic mother."

Was it possible to actually _see_ the sarcasm dripping from someone's voice? PJ wanted to persuade Gabe that they weren't trying to trick him in any way, but Teddy was priority at the moment. Plus, if Gabe was already this freaked out, there was a good chance he'd be back later with some sort of excuse to stay.

"Fine, leave," the eldest Duncan kid muttered, going to get out his spell bag. Right as he did, the drawer of the nightstand closest to the window swung open, making both boys jump and Charlie clap.

The little girl scuttled towards the nightstand, Gabe going after her. From the open drawer, she grabbed a large, leather-bound book with _Biblia_ on the cover in gold lettering. Beneath that was a silver _P_ with an _X_ over its stem. PJ had seen that symbol somewhere before, but he couldn't remember where. It had to be some sort of Christian symbol, though, seeing as the book was obviously a bible.

"This book is heavy," grunted the little girl as she heaved the large book onto the bed. She pushed it into Teddy's side, and she began to stir, Charlie looking over to her right, looking as if she were listening to someone.

"What the…," Teddy slurred, Gabe standing in the doorway as if unsure of what to do. The blonde blinked rapidly, pupils shrinking down to a normal size as she began to sit up with PJ's help. Her brow crinkled, and she brought a finger to her forehead before bringing it back to just below her nose as she sniffed. "Olive oil and… ew, _dirt_?"

Her words were getting less slurred, but her eyes were still a little red with dark half-moons beneath them, and Gabe suddenly looked really worried, probably figuring that Teddy couldn't possibly be that good of an actress—not even the best could make her eyes bloodshot.

"That's patchouli," PJ sighed. It seemed like he was the only one that actually _liked_ the scent. "Are you feeling okay?"

As Teddy opened her mouth, a hand to the side of her head, Charlie began to speak, still staring at what PJ could only guess to be the ghost of a relative or someone claiming to be such.

"Blessed is the man… who does not walk in the cow… coun…sel of… the wick… ed..."

"The hell is that?!" exclaimed Gabe.

"Hell is bad!" Charlie shouted back at him as she whirled around to face him.

PJ quickly shushed her as crying sounded from below, making them all jump as Charlie pointed at Gabe.

"Gabie said name of a bad place!"

PJ went over to his baby sister, picking her up. "It's okay, Charlie. Gabe didn't mean it, right?" He stretched out the final word as he cast his gaze over to the thirteen-year-old.

Running a hand through his short, spiky hair, Gabe groaned, "Yeah, I didn't mean it." He motioned at the bible. "How does she even know what H—um, that 'bad place' is, anyway?"

"I don't know, school?" PJ guessed, getting distracted by Toby's crying. Was he going to be up all night again? It probably wouldn't matter. PJ couldn't imagine being able to get any sleep now.

"_Pre_-school?" Gabe challenged, eyebrows arching.

"Charlie dropped the F-bomb that one day. Who knows what else other kids are saying?!"

Teddy grunted as she threw her feet over the side of the bed and picked up the book. "I'm guessing they don't have philosophical or religious discussions. That's more kindergarten stuff." She turned to the bible's table of contents.

_No need to be so sarcastic_, thought PJ. "So Charlie says she was talking to Grandma's little sister…" He set the little girl down as she began to squirm, and she ran over to Teddy.

"Grandma Linda has two half-sisters, but they were both alive last I checked," informed Teddy, running a finger down the thin page.

"How do you know that?" Gabe and PJ chorused, and the crying from downstairs finally stopped, making them all relax.

"Family tree for extra credit in my history class two years ago. I had to go back four generations, but I had a bit of trouble with Grandma Petunia." Teddy's eyes narrowed as she looked up from the book, brow knitting as she dug through her memory. "Her maiden name was Cross, and she had an older sister, Nell. The one Mom, Charlie, and I went to Chicago to visit so we'd end up in her will, but Grandma didn't want to talk much about her family, saying she left them behind after marrying Grandpa.

"I tried going on one of those ancestor-search sites, but Dad didn't want to pay almost forty dollars for it, and then my teacher said that using one of those sites would be cheating anyway, so Mom helped me hunt down some old birth certificates. Turns out 'Cross' was Great-grandma's maiden name, but I couldn't figure out who she'd married or if she even had. I only learned her name was Rowanda. I had some trouble getting any further than that…"

She trailed off, realizing she had begun to drone on, which she often did on one topic or another when either excited about it, just wanting to show off her knowledge, or wanting to cover up her nervousness or anxiety. Her brow furrowed as Gabe went into his room, coming back with that journal Teddy had given PJ for his eighteenth birthday.

He'd left it behind when he went to Mexico, never having seen any real use for a journal. He hadn't thought much when he hadn't found it in his desk drawer after getting back, but he hadn't been bothered by its absence.

What was Gabe doing with it? He also had a black pencil in his other hand; it looked like one of the shading pencils PJ had seen in his art class's storage room. Since when had Gabe taken up art?

Kicking the door behind him (as softly as he could), Gabe turned to a clean page in the dark red journal. Nearly half of it looked to have been filled already. "Okay, you said—"

"There's extra books in here!" Teddy exclaimed in a tone just above a whisper. She looked up at the boys as Charlie cuddled beside her in her usual "read me a story" pose.

Teddy spoke a little more loudly, saying, "I was wondering what was different about it. You know how I've been going to church with Ivy or Spencer a lot?"

"Um…" PJ hesitated, not really sure if he should admit that he'd never really noticed too much when his sister left the house, especially if it was before he would have woken up.

"Not really," answered Gabe for him.

The teenage girl's lips tightened, but she didn't look surprised. "Anyway, I've been looking through the study bible Ivy got me—it was an old one she'd gotten when she was, like, twelve for Confirmation—"

"Get on with it!" the boys groaned. Teddy was probably the worst out of all of them when it came to getting off onto tangents.

"Sor-_ry_," she mumbled. "Okay, so I've been reading some of the books, just flipping back and forth whenever I felt like it, but this bible has books I'd never heard of before. Like Tobit, Sirach, Letter of Jeremiah, First and Second Maccabees, Prayer of Manasseh… Compared to some of the other stuff going on, that's probably not as important, but it's still a little weird."

"Especially since the drawer had flied open by itself," muttered PJ as Gabe wrote down more stuff into the journal. Since the pages were unlined, his sentences sloped upward a bit.

"It's probably a Catholic bible," said Gabe. "Jo's Catholic, and she told me that they have more books in their bibles than the Protestants. Something about translations. I don't really remember. I wasn't all that interested. I just listened because she probably would have hit me if I didn't."

Both of the elder siblings knew there was more to the friendship than that, but neither said anything. There were bigger topics at hand, anyway.

PJ was about to say something else when a low **thump** came from downstairs. "Uh…" He went towards the door and opened it a crack. "What was that?"

"Not quite sure I want to check," Teddy murmured.

"Mommy!" called Charlie, still cuddled against Teddy, eyes at half-mast. "Mommy sleep!"

"Mom?" The hairs on the back of PJ's neck suddenly stood on end, and he grabbed the candle on his dresser. "I'm going to go check," he said quickly. "You two stay here?"

"In the dark?" Teddy coughed, wanting to cover the panicked tone in her voice.

Gabe darted out of the room "Let me get the candle in my room real quick!"

He returned swiftly, hissing in pain when wax dripped over his hand. PJ then left, heading down the stairs as his heart thundered almost as loud as the crash that followed the flash that made the house glow for a fraction of a second. The nineteen-year-old rushed down the stairs, gasping when he spotted his mother collapsed in the living room, in front of the doors leading out onto the deck. The candle fell from his hand, the flickering flame going out as PJ sprinted to his mother's side. The closer he got, the louder a high-pitched wail got, making PJ's head feel as if it were ready to explode. He pushed the pain aside, flipping his mother onto her back.

"What's going on?" Bob demanded, rushing into the den. From his bedroom, Toby began to cry once again, getting louder and shriller. "Oh, goddammit…"

"I got Mom," PJ assured, grabbing Amy beneath the arms and pulling her towards the nearest couch. "Get Toby."

"You sure?" Bob was already inching towards the bedroom but hesitating, clearly torn between helping his youngest son and helping the love of his life.

"Yes!" PJ snapped.

Bob rushed back to his room, a thud and oath showing he'd hit a wall or something while trying to get there in the darkness.

Hauling his mother onto the couch, PJ barely noticed Gabe coming down the stairs while holding his light blue taper, Teddy right behind him while holding a dozing Charlie.

"What's going on?" Teddy shrilled, not thinking about the possibility of waking up her little sister, who only gave a small stir.

"I don't know!" PJ's heart was in full-gallop, breathing shallow and eyes wide with fear. It felt as if the high-pitched sound were splitting PJ's skull, and he began to get dizzy, his vision beginning to blur. He tried to think of something to do, but the pain in his head was making bile begin to creep up his throat.

Teddy and Gabe were saying something, and it sounded like Bob had returned, screaming Toby in tow, but PJ couldn't make out any of the words, eyes squeezing shut as he fell to his knees, unable to keep on his feet. He thought he heard his name and felt someone grasping onto one of his arms, but PJ kept trying to concentrate. This had to be the work of one or more of the spirits in the house. He remembered a Skype conversation with Skylar and how she'd met another witch, though she worked more with necromancy.

Skylar hadn't been one to like going near that practice, but she had given PJ a spell before he and his family had left for the lake just in case. He tried to remember it, falling when whoever had him tried to drag him to his feet. PJ snatched his arm back and pushed himself back up to his knees, trying to remember that spell.

The pain grew worse and worse, and when PJ gasped his mother's hand, panic raged through his body when he noticed that her skin was cold, the temperature still dropping. Adrenaline pumping, PJ stopped shutting out the pain, allowing it to crash through him like a tsunami. It made him double over, and he leaned over towards the fireplace just in time as he vomited.

"_Song of All and Spirit's loving light…"_

PJ could not tell if the words stayed in his head or if he managed to voice them aloud.

"_Protect us on this summer night…"_

The pain rammed through him even harder, as if knowing what PJ was trying to do and wanting to stop him.

"_By Your love, make darkness flee…"_

PJ vomited again, more hands coming to try and bring him back up, but the high-pitched wails was now a trill, sounding more like a scream of rage at PJ's words.

"_Protect us now, so mote it be!"_

The wail gave one last cry before fading, as if being forced back, PJ falling back into his father's and brother's arms as Teddy stood by Amy, holding Toby and watching PJ with wide eyes, tears running down her cheeks. PJ gasped down air, his vision clearing as his eyes began to move towards the portrait over the fireplace. Those hard eyes seemed to be staring down at him, making a chill run up PJ's spine.

"Is Mom okay?" he managed, words slurring as Bob grunted, taking him to the other couch.

On the couch with Amy, crawling so she sat at her feet, Charlie gave a loud yawn. "Mommy sleep."


	9. VIII: Mephistopheles

**Chapter 8: Mephistopheles**

"_Light can be gentle, dangerous, dreamlike, bare, living, dead, misty, clear, hot, dark, violet, springlike, falling, straight, sensual, limited, poisonous, calm and soft." - Sven Nykvist_

"Ah…," groaned PJ as he slowly sat up, finding a crick in his neck. _Great…._

It was almost like Hawaii all over again, PJ waking up to find himself in a sitting position on the floor; Gabe next to him, still sleeping, and his head and torso on the floor while his calves and feet rested on the foot of the bed; Teddy curled up at the top of the bed, back against the wall and head using the bible (now on the nightstand) as a pillow; and Charlie curled up calmly in the very center of the mattress with all the sheets and blankets having trapped her in a cocoon.

When did they all fall asleep? PJ tried to think to remember, but he still felt groggy, his memory covered by heavy fog, loath to lift away and allow anything to become clear.

Pushing himself to his feet, PJ became conscious of the sound of rain. The storm was as strong as it had been last night, but at least he could see without the aid of candlelight. When he heard the echo of thunder's mighty clap, he noticed that it didn't sound quite as close as it had last night. The taper on the dresser was burned down to a white nub, and the incense had quit smoking as well. The scent of dragon blood still lingered, but it wasn't as strong as when PJ had first lit the incense. He went to light more, but as he opened the top drawer to get out another charcoal tablet, his cellphone, next to the heatproof dish, began to vibrate.

_Oh thank God!_ PJ snatched up the mobile, not even looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"P… Thank—"

The happiness of his phone actually working now quickly evaporated. _Oh, dammit! _He rushed out of the room, heading towards the large window at the end of the hallway. "Hello? Hello?!" His voice was raised, words quick as his racing heart.

"PJ?!" There was a bit of static, but the familiar, concerned voice came through clearly enough for PJ to understand her. "PJ, you there?"

"Yes, but I don't know how long my phone will last," PJ responded, words nearly running together as he looked out the window.

The sere clouds were smeared across the sky, not allowing the sun to give any sign of hope to those below.

"Okay." Skylar began to pick up the pace with her speech as well. "PJ, tell me quick what's happened so far before we're dropped."

"The cross hanging by my bed flew, like, five feet across the room; I saw a girl in the mirror when I was in the bathroom; Teddy and I saw a girl in the background in her video diary; and I think Charlie saw her in my room. She even talked to her and said she was our aunt!"

There was something else…, but the fog still would not lift.

"I talked to my nonni. She says she and your grandma Petunia did something in that house. PJ, you need to get out of there. If someone's spirit really is trapped, I think I might know some that can help later when _you're safe_."

"We can't leave! There's this storm, and the roads—" There was a small beep, followed by static, signaling that PJ and Skylar had been disconnected. "Sky? Skylar?!" He stopped himself from throwing the phone across the hall at the last second. "Crap!"

He relayed the conversation over in his mind. Something had been done in this house, something horrible. There was an aunt he had never heard of and a girl he knew nothing about. Yet, he got the feeling she was a part of what had happened as well. Was there anything in the house besides those two? PJ was sure there was, and he figured that those girls were trapped here, unable to move on. Did that mean they were helping, not wanting any of the Duncans to meet the same fate?

Heat touched PJ on the back of his neck, and he whipped around as a shiver shot down his spine.

_Dear God I hope that's just my imagination…._

He sprinted back to the room, stopping when he spotted Charlie sitting up in her nest of blankets, just staring at him.

With eyes that were dark, almost black.

Left hand still clutching the phone, PJ paused in the doorway, words cautious. "Charlie… Are you okay?"

"Air." The word came out like a chirp, voice sounding like she wasn't quite used to it—like trying to speak with a sore throat. "Intelligence. Knowing. We wanted to make right decisions." As she spoke, she only stared, eyes burrowing into PJ's. "Fire. Inspiration. Spark. Desire. We wanted the will to make desire reality." Her speech began to flow a little easier, like she was finally getting used to it, though there was still a bit of stumbling over some of the words, the speaker fighting to get out the correct intonation.

"Water. Emotions. Flowing. We wanted to flow, let emotions carry us, not block us." Finally, she blinked, but it was quick, like she couldn't stand the thought of breaking eye-contact. "Earth. Stability. Grounding. Will, inspiration, and intelligence needs a foundation or it will all spill away." Her bottom lip began to quiver. "Spirit. Wholeness. Connectedness. Life. We—"

Charlie gasped and coughed, squeezing her eyes shut; PJ immediately rushed over to her as she swooned.

"Charlie? Charlie?" He said her name louder each time as he tilted her back up into a sitting position, trying to get the tangle of blankets away from her perspiring body. The little girl stopped coughing, but her breathing looked shallow and quick, eyelids fluttering.

Slowly pushing herself up, Teddy groggily inquired, "What's going on?"

Charlie gave a large yawn, PJ exhaling slowly as she opened her eyes. They were back to that green-grey-blue color she had inherited from their father.

"PJ?" asked the little girl, and her brother hugged her tightly. "Squishing me!"

"Oh, sorry." PJ let go of her, and he looked up as Teddy crawled over to them.

"What's going on?" she asked again, then looked at the pile of blankets. "Huh, so that's why I was cold all… When the heck did we fall asleep, anyway?" She rubbed at her temples. "I feel like… I don't know. Like I missed something."

"Quiet!" grumbled Gabe from below, his sketchbook sitting on top of his chest and the pencil tucked behind one ear. "It's too early…."

Rubbing the back of her neck, Teddy went over to the window, and PJ picked up Charlie and went to pick up the bible, but Charlie wiggled, not wanting to be held, so he let her take the bible back to the bed.

"Did you find anything in this?" asked PJ, eyes on Charlie.

The last thing he remembered before sleep was trying to find what Charlie had said, but with over one-thousand pages to search through, it hadn't been simple.

He couldn't remember if they'd been able to figure out the verse or anything else. The fog was still loath to leave his mind, but the eldest of the Duncan brood swore he could see figures just beyond the mist.

_Sounds like one of those Stephen King books Katherine liked to read_. PJ shook his head at the thought of his ex-girlfriend, still hurt about having been cheated on with that stupid pizza guy.

"'Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked…,'" murmured Teddy, voice low and sounding distant. It didn't have that overly-calm, trance-like tone, so PJ recognized it as her usual voice when contemplating something, like when she would sometimes recite lines of poetry she was writing an essay on.

"Sounds like some sort of prayer," PJ murmured. "Or… I don't know, like when someone is saying something good about someone else in a speech or something?"

"Sounds a little more like a sermon, I think." Teddy's eyes were trained out the window, PJ trying to follow her gaze. Although it was day, the overcast sky and sheets of rain still made it hard to see even a few feet in front of one's self. "Do you remember much from last night?"

"No, you?"

"Obviously I wouldn't be asking if I remembered everything perfectly." The comment was meant to be snide but had fallen flat, Teddy likely just as anxious about all of this as PJ.

"Let's just go downstairs and see if Mom and Dad saw or heard anything weird."

"What about Gabe?" Teddy finally turned away from the window. "He's not going to want to move, even if a demon materializes beside him right now."

PJ looked over at Charlie, who was flipping through the pages of bible, swaying slightly. He should tell Teddy about what had happened right before she woke up, but he also wanted to say something to their mom and dad. They needed to get out of this house and fast. They'd find a way to the car. Maybe the roads wouldn't be as flooded as PJ thought. He could only hope.

"We can always do what we did to get him to kindergarten," he suggested.

Teddy's eyes met his for a second before going back to Gabe's feet on the bed. "I'll take the arms, you get the legs."

**XXX**

Nell stood on the balcony of her penthouse, staring out at the skyline with a glass of vodka and cranberry juice in one hand. A white robe covered her withered body, her long nails were painted bright red, and she still had make-up expertly applied to her gaunt face. Once, she had been considered the most beautiful flower in the garden, about to be plucked by those sausage fingers of a boy she could not stand the sight of. Pug-faced and stout, that "man" had been unfit to be heir of his father's conglomerate. Yet, that prick's father and Nell's father had seen benefit in the union for both of their families.

Roger—yes, that had been his name—hadn't had any objections, and why should he have? He'd been about to gain the hand of none other than Nell Dedmund! Long, glossy light auburn hair; sparkling blue eyes edged with hazel; full lips that did not need the aid of gloss or color to attract the lips of another; and a luscious, perfectly-curved body that stood out even in her St. Agatha's uniform. Any man would have jumped through hoops to hold one of her smooth, delicate hands!

Yet, that oaf hadn't jumped through hoops at all! He never would have made it past the first if he'd tried. It had been his father and the connection between their families that had sealed such a fate. It was demeaning! Nell Maria Dedmund was not a freebee, she was a _prize_! She was to be _worked_ for! Yet, her father had been ready to hand her over like a loaf of bread for some extra money!

Disgraceful! Nell stopped scowling long enough to take a sip of her drink, ignoring the burn down her throat she barely felt anymore.

Now at the top of her own empire, Nell had swallowed the one of that pug-faced nobody after nearly a decade of heated competition. She had first needed to make that damn engagement dissolve, and Mephistopheles had been perfect for making that happen.

The man with dark hair combed back from his pale face had done wonders for Nell ever since that day she met him outside the manor. Wire-thin lips set into the shadow of a smirk in the right light had set his coal-black eyes upon her after dumping that Jap's body into the lake. Joan had been vomiting into Mother's azalea bushes as Petunia had broken down into tears for the _n_th time.

"_Who are you?" Nell inquired, muscles tensing as she got ready to add another body to the count if it meant getting out of the trouble she could already be in. Her hair was disheveled, and her shoulders and fists shook. A band of grey was already appearing in the east, and she needed to get rid of Camille's body and plant Father's gun quickly._

_The man bowed, the eighteen-year-old easing her stance as suspicion began to morph into puzzlement._

"_I have gone by many names," the man said in a deep, musical voice, the accent impossible to pin to any one region. He straightened to his impressive height, hands behind his back and stance similar to the butler back at Nell's home in Denver. "You have wished to be successful by your own hands, and I was intrigued by how you took care of that…" The shadow cut across his face, making it look like his lips had twisted into a smirk. "Situation back in the manor. I come as your servant. We shall write up the contract later. I will return to you once you are alone back in your home."_

_The man disappeared instantly. No light, no mist, no shadow, nothing but him simply vanishing into thin air._

Nell had chosen the name Mephistopheles for him, the contract having reminded her of _The Tragic History of Doctor Faustus _from literature class, but she had much bigger plans than being a simple conjurer for four-and-twenty years, and she knew she was smart enough to not let her reign end as it had for Doctor Faustus in that play.

"Mephistopheles!" Nell called as she walked back into her penthouse, the sliding door closing behind her without her having touched it.

"Yes, Madam," said the man who hadn't aged since that day he first arrived. He appeared out of thin air in a perfect bow, awaiting his orders.

"There are people staying at the manor?"

"Yes, Madam. Seven."

Setting her glass down onto the end table by her cream-colored couch, Nell looked into the mirror hanging above it, the gold-and-silver frame shining as she did. It was a mirror the Evil Queen would have killed for, showing Nell her long, light auburn hair as she let down her white-and-grey tresses from its clip. In the mirror, her face once again had its youthful glow, not a line in place, and she smiled wide as her bright eyes danced.

"Good," she murmured, running her thin fingers crafted perfectly for the piano through her thick locks. "That's just the number I need, isn't that right?"

Standing up straight, Mephistopheles watched his master, eyes unreadable but lips seeming to be in that smirk Nell knew well. "That is correct, Madam."

_**Starting to wonder if this story falls more into 'supernatural' than 'horror'... Yeah, the only horror I've really read are the works by Poe. Anyway, sorry I hadn't updated in a while, but I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. :)**_


	10. IX: Needing Answers

**Chapter 9: Needing Answers**

"_A sunbeam to warm you, / A moonbeam to charm you, / A sheltering angel, so nothing can harm you." - Irish Blessing_

When each drop alone felt like a blunt needle's prick, and then having that multiplied by the hundreds of thousands, Amy could see how some people could become afraid of water. She wasn't even sure why she was out in the downpour or how or when she'd left the house. The last thing she remembered before finding herself in the middle of a clearing was falling down by the double doors leading out onto the deck. She thought she could recall someone (people?) screaming when the world had fallen into blackness, but it was like being at the bottom of the deep end of the pool with someone calling from the edge.

Whenever Amy paused beneath a tree to close her eyes and think of those moments, to try and figure out what was going on, only a pounding sensation racking through her skull was given as a reward for her efforts. She still felt lingering vertigo from her last attempt, and her limbs felt weak. As she stumbled through the forest, occasionally looking up to the sky in fear whenever there was a flash or boom, all she could think of were those warnings of being out in a storm.

Fatigue kept trying to pull the woman down, and she was constantly pushing her soaking locks away from her pallid face, the ponytail holder long gone. Mud stained the silky fabric of Amy's pajama bottoms from the knees down, and she was stumbling every few steps, whirling around as another shout of thunder echoed through the air.

Once again, Amy was back in the clearing she had first found herself in upon waking up, but she could have sworn she had been within the grasps of the clusters of trees, their roots protruding as if wanting to make her stumble and twigs reaching out like the gnarled fingers of the old hag offering that poisoned apple.

Now, she was in the circular clearing, the pines surrounding the area looking like they were trying to keep Amy closed in. There were large stones over in one part of the clearing, other, smaller stones around and atop them. It looked haphazard, but it also looked deliberate.

"_Rumor has it that that youngest girl had been dabbling in the black arts or devil worship or sometin' like that and used the other girl as a sacrifice."_

That story rammed into Amy's head, the force of the thought actually making her fall to her knees as lightning leaped through the ash-colored clouds. It was white, the jagged limbs stretching across its stage for the fraction of a second it was allotted before its partner belted out its deep note that was a roar, a cry for battle. Only seconds passed before there was an answer to the call, the sheets seeming to come down faster and harder now, as if the heavens had opened up to release its treasure before the war could do anything to destroy it.

Shoulders trembling, Amy pulled herself towards the large stones, though her mind registered no movement until she was already a few feet away. Upon that realization she stopped, mouth open slightly, hair plastered over half of her face, and muscles feeling weaker by the moment.

An image suddenly appeared like mist coalescing before the stones. Amy blinked slowly, but her fatigue kept her from reacting in shock or even in mild surprise.

"_Damn it Petunia!"_

The voice did not come from the forming image; rather, it was like those high-pitched wails Amy vaguely remembered—all around her but also nowhere. The voice was like one in her head, yet she could feel her ears tingle as if it were a real voice spoken out loud, not a hallucination.

But how would she know what a hallucination was? People who had them believed them to be very real, right?

"_Quiet, Nell! I am tired of your orders! We need to go to the police!"_

However, a crazy person would not wonder whether she were crazy, right?

The images were a cross between mist and shadow, humanoid shapes walking around the stones. There were four, Amy realized, but one was being pulled along by the other two. One had dropped the arms, and one shape looked to be fussing about the stones as if setting it up the way it was now.

"_I agree with Petunia, Nell."_

That voice was soft, unsure.

"_What…?"_

That one was little more than a growl, one of the shapes straightening, looking at the one at the stones. That shape then stumbled back, as if fearful at the one that stared upon it.

"_I-I… I just think—"_

"_What? That they'll be stupid enough to just let us go with a slap on the wrist? That they'll actually _listen_ to this witchcraft business? We _can't_ go to the police! Do you understand?!"_

"_I-I'm sorry…"_

What was going on here? Amy didn't know, and she couldn't even find the strength to be frightened. All she was able to do was collapse onto her side into the leaves, grass, and mud, the shapes speaking as more and more whispers filled the clearing.

**XXX**

Something just wasn't right with Mom. Teddy felt it in her gut, but neither Bob nor Gabe seemed to think anything was amiss with the smiling woman setting plates of chocolate chip-and-peanut butter pancakes onto the coffee table as Bob used the poker to shift some logs and let the fire breathe. Only PJ seemed to be hesitant when Mom gave him a morning kiss on the cheek and asked what he wanted to drink, but by the look on his face, Teddy could tell he was questioning this feeling that something was off about her.

"Teddy?" Amy inquired, eyes wide in concern. "Are you alright, honey?"

Bob was already digging into his stack as Gabe drenched his in syrup and PJ cut up Charlie's for her as she smiled up at him. Teddy, on the other hand, just sat on the edge of the couch facing the double-doors leading to the deck and stared down at her plate.

The teenage girl looked up at her mother's voice. "Um…"

Teddy couldn't just come out and say what she was feeling, could she? What exactly would she say, anyway? All she knew that something was wrong, and it had to do with the woman that looked, sounded, and acted _way_ too chipper this early in the morning when Amy was usually groaning about having her beauty sleep cut short and barking at everyone to be quiet and not look at her.

After a moment, Teddy went with "I've just been working so hard on my diet, y'know?"

Although everyone kept claiming that Teddy didn't even need to be on a diet, Ivy had wanted to go on one, so Teddy had begun doing the same for support.

"Well, since you've been doing so well, you deserve a treat." Amy went over to her own plate, and Teddy silently gave a nod as she took the bottle of syrup from Gabe.

As Teddy began to cut into her small stack of pancakes, she paused, noticing something: The lights were still off, and she didn't recall the one in the bathroom coming on when she tested it earlier. That meant the power was still out… How'd Mom make pancakes?

"You okay?" asked Bob with a mouth full of food.

"Yeah." Suddenly, Teddy wasn't too hungry. "I'm just gonna go check something real quick."

Upstairs, Teddy found herself at the window at the end of the hallway when that had not been the destination in mind. She hadn't even realized she was going there; she'd been thinking of going into PJ's room to retrieve something when she'd suddenly found herself staring out the window, right hand slowly raising until her fingertips rested gently on the cool glass. Her tawny eyes were squinted, staring out at the wooded area, no more than blobs of green and brown the rain seemed to attempt to blot out completely.

Something—no… some_one_—was out there. Teddy could tell, though she wasn't sure how. It was the same feeling that crashed into her gut like how she just knew there was something wrong with her mom.

Then there was that fog that still kept her mind little more than a haze.

Staring out at the forest, Teddy concentrated on last night, trying to move past the fog, but it was more of a shield, something solid. Whenever there was thick fog in Denver, Teddy could see as she walked on, items slowly revealing themselves as she went. In her mind, it was much different. It was as if the fog was a living, thinking being that kept pushing her back whenever she tried to plunge through and have the memories it concealed finally within her sight.

As Teddy stood there, working against the fog, her left hand came up to grasp the necklace she wore. The quartz stones were cool in her hand, the metal matching her temperature more quickly than it did.

Going against the fog was akin to fighting a strong current, and Teddy's eyes finally closed as she leaned forward to where her forehead was against the glass, fingers of her right hand curling inward.

Taking a deep breath, Teddy let it out slowly as her eyes opened. Within the glass, Teddy's reflection had been replaced with an image that made the girl jump and stumble back with a gasp, eyes wide upon seeing a girl with ivory skin, golden hair that draped over her shoulders, and dark brown eyes with the subtlest of slants. Only her torso was visible in the glass, and she wore only a white bra, gashes and contusions marring her body. A nimble finger came up over her bow-shaped lips in a "Shush" motion when Teddy's own lips parted in a scream, but the trembling teenager kept herself quiet, her pounding heart slowly becoming calm once more.

The girl in the window turned slightly and pointed outside, her eyes then coming back to Teddy's as she mouthed, "Mother," lips moving slowly as they exaggerated the motions of the word so as if wanting to make sure her message was clear. She waited until Teddy gave a nod of understanding before pointing below. "Basement." She waited for another nod, and she then mouthed, "Answers" before fading away, face taking on a pleading expression as she went.

Teddy still shook, but she managed to get to her feet and dart into PJ's room. It didn't take long for her to find his spell bag, and she instantly grabbed for the small amber bottle that held the oil that had been put onto Teddy's forehead last night. She unscrewed the top and gave the oil a sniff, nose wrinkling. Yep, patchouli oil smelled like dirt, and it was strong, making it hard to make out any of the other scents, though Teddy was fairly sure she could detect lavender and something else she couldn't identify by smell alone.

She tucked the bottle into the pocket of her dark green Bermuda shorts after making sure the cap was on tightly, and she then pocketed the lighter and a white votive candle (why _did_ PJ have so many?) seeing as the lights weren't going to work in the basement, and Teddy wasn't sure where Dad had put that flashlight he'd given PJ last night so he could come up here and get his candles. She started trying to think of excuses of why she'd go down there, seeing as someone was going to spot her anyway (one of the _joys_ of being in such a big family), and she took a few packets of salt from the spell bag and slipped those into her pockets as well.

Downstairs, everyone was still eating, Bob talking about how he hoped the rain would let up by the afternoon if they wanted to leave tomorrow, as planned. In the fire, Teddy saw the girl appear for a fraction of a second, index finger in front of her lips.

_Why doesn't she want me to say anything?_ Teddy's eyes turned towards Amy, or whoever this was. _And what the hell is going on?_

She needed to get down into the basement and find out the answers. She wanted to ask PJ for help, but how would they—

The pitcher of milk suddenly tipped over, shattering once it hit the hardwood floor, and the white liquid quickly spread over the ground. Gabe had jumped at the sound as Charlie and Toby began crying with Bob trying to calm them down and Amy looking around as if trying to figure out what had happened—or knowing _who_ but unsure of why.

"What was that?!" Gabe demanded as PJ murmured, "What the…?"

Teddy's hand was still resting on the head of the waist-high pillar at the end of the staircase, and her eyes darted towards the basement door and then back to the broken glass. "I remembered seeing a mop and some cloths downstairs," she said quickly. "I can go get it. Dad, where's the flashlight?"

"Uh…" Bob looked distracted with the two youngest children, looking relieved as Gabe finally rolled his eyes and took Toby as Amy went to the kitchen for some paper towels. "End table drawer next to PJ."

Blue eyes meeting his sister's gaze, PJ seemed to get an idea of what was happening and retrieved the torch. "I'll go with her."

"Alright," Bob replied, getting Charlie to settle down and start eating more of her pancakes.

"What's going on?" whispered PJ into Teddy's ear as they headed towards the basement, Teddy opening the door.

"Not sure yet," Teddy whispered back as she stepped aside so PJ could go first, turning on the flashlight so they could see the steps. "That's what I want to figure out."

_**Sorry I haven't updated in so long, but my headaches (I've been getting constant headaches for a few years now) have been getting worse lately, so I've been spending most of my free-time trying to rest, but I've decided that one of my plans for the summer will be getting that referral for the neurologist and getting another haircut (my hair's thick and coarse - think Hermione Granger meets Merida Dunbroch - so it gets heavy sometimes, especially when I pull it back or try to do something with it). -.-" Anyway, that's enough about what's going on with me. Since the semester's almost over, I should be able to get more writing done since I'm taking any summer classes this year. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to be able to get the next one up soon. :)**_


	11. X: The Room

**Chapter 10: The Room**

"_The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek." - Joseph Campbell_

"Want to tell me what's going on?" asked PJ in a low tone as they descended the staircase.

Getting more and more nervous the further they went, Teddy found herself beginning to braid and unbraid a lock of her hair. "Please don't tell me I'm the only one that noticed that something's wrong with Mom."

"I got a feeling," responded PJ as he and Teddy reached the square-shaped landing where the staircase made a ninety-degree angle to the left. "And I definitely thought she was weird when you reminded her about your diet and she didn't say anything about your 'chicken legs'."

"I do _not_ have chicken legs!" Teddy whisper-yelled.

"Whatever you say. I _still_ don't know what that means. With guys, there's fat, skinny, and muscular. Why do girls have to make it so complicated?"

Teddy gave a low groan, but she wondered if PJ was changing the subject like this on purpose. He always gave the outward appearance of being completely clueless, but most of it came from his tendency to daydream and not having enough courage to admit to the people he was in a conversation with that he hadn't been listening. He may not be very good at academics, but he was very good at picking up on people's emotions, so Teddy wouldn't be surprised if he was just trying to help her ease up, even if by only a bit.

"What's all the white stuff?" PJ asked when they reached the concrete floor of the basement. "Damn, it's cold down here. Good thing I have my shoes on. My feet would probably freeze."

Ignoring the comment about the temperature, Teddy answered, "I think it's candle wax. With all the haunting rumors, I'm betting lots of people have come down here for séances and stuff."

PJ gave a nod. "So why are we here? I'm not going anywhere near a Ouija board, by the way."

"Not what I was thinking." Teddy stuck close to PJ. She had no idea why, but being here made her feel very uneasy. Was it a mistake having listened to that ghost-girl? She had a weird feeling about something having happened here, but she didn't recall anything. Was it just the vibes? She remembered feeling creeped-out last time she was down here, but she swore it was more than that.

"So what, then?" inquired PJ, likely sensing Teddy's mood.

"Um… I saw something—someone… _whatever_—when I was upstairs." She saw her brother raise his eyebrows out of the corner of her eye. "She had dark eyes and blonde hair, and she wasn't wearing a shirt and had cuts all over her."

Stepping further into the basement, PJ shone the torch's beam over the walls as Teddy held onto the back of his Flash T-shirt.

"I saw her in the bathroom mirror," PJ said as the light passed over the door not far from the bucket of cleaning supplies over in the corner. "Think we can trust her?"

"I don't know," Teddy confessed after some hesitation, "but I think we can. And she pointed out to the woods and said 'mother'. I… I'm not sure, but do you think she could have been talking about _our_ mom?"

The two stopped in front of the closed door. "But then who's that upstairs?"

"The girl pointed down and said 'answers'," said Teddy, stepping forward to look at the door's handle. It looked like the same lock used at their house, which was easily picked if the need arose. "So I think we'll figure out what's going on down here."

"Why can't these things be on a beach or in the mall with a bunch of hot girls or something?" PJ tried the handle, both relieved and disappointed that it wasn't locked.

"For the same reason it can't be 'follow the butterflies'," muttered Teddy, switching to a not-so-convincing English accent at the last three words. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, beginning to shiver as PJ opened the door.

Past the door was a hallway that veered left after a few feet, a thin layer of dust covering the walls and floor. There were also cobwebs cluttering the corner and up by the ceiling. PJ led the way, but Teddy stopped him by pulling on his shirt as she looked around.

"Hear that?" she questioned in a low, nervous voice.

PJ looked around slowly, flashlight beam still pointed down the narrow hallway. He didn't hear anything except footsteps from upstairs. He thought he might hear a bit of buzzing like when he was near electrical appliances. "Um… no. What do you hear?" he kept his voice low, pointing the flashlight at one wall and then the other to inspect them.

"It sounds almost like voices. I thought I heard something earlier, but it's getting a little louder." Her eyes followed the light beam.

"Then we'll have to keep going if we want answers, right?" PJ's voice shook slightly, making Teddy even more nervous.

She then remembered the white votive in her pocket. She dug it out as well of the lighter, showing it to her brother. "This help?"

"Oh, okay, here, give that to me real quick and hold the flashlight."

Teddy took the torch as PJ took the candle and used his pinky hair to carve a seven-pointed star, the lines somewhat crooked and uneven. For each line, he whispered a different word: "East. South. West. North. Above. Below. Within." He then handed back the votive and took the flashlight as Teddy tried to work the lighter without burning herself.

Once the candle was lit, Teddy pocketed the lighter, and the two turned at the corner and headed to a room that was almost twice as long as it was wide. On the far wall was the image of what looked to be a dragon with a very long tail, the end of which was clasped in the dragon's jaws so that its body created a circle. Inside the circle was a Star of David with symbols between the triangle-points and one in the very center. There also looked to be words inside the star, outside it, and even more circling around the dragon.

"What the heck?" Teddy questioned, voice coming out as a squeak. "PJ, you know what that is?" She squinted at the huge image, thinking some of the symbols looked familiar.

The two on either side of the bottom point of the star were obviously the sun and crescent moon, and the two symbols by the star above those looked to by the 'male' and 'female' symbols. However, it looked like some of the charcoal—that's what it looked like it was, anyway—had smeared and faded at some point.

"Planet ones," PJ answered as he took another two steps further into the room. "The one in the center is Mercury, I'm pretty sure, and I think I recognize the symbol for Jupiter from one of your old _Sailor Moon_ books. Sun, moon… The one with an arrow is for Mars, and the one with the upside-down cross-thing is Venus. I don't know about the other one, though, and I can't read the words."

"Hey!" Teddy whisper-yelled, pointing to the wall to their left with her free hand, making sure to keep the candle away from her brown-and-orange tank top.

When the light cut through the inky blackness to the wall Teddy pointed at, an ankh drawing could be seen. It looked to have been drawn with the same substance as the other image, and the bottom part of the ankh looked like a regular _T_-shape, the top loop made with the image of a long snake, the end of its body wrapped around the stem of the _T_, and its mouth was open wide as if about to swallow prey.

The two then turned to the wall opposite of the dragon, finding the image of a tribal-style drawing of a phoenix rising from the flames of death. Then, on the last wall was the image of some wide ribbon twisted into what she recognized as the symbol on the front of the _Charmed_Book of Shadows—a triquetra, she believed it to be called.

"The heck _is_ this place?" Teddy kept looking around at all the walls, getting more and more uneasy.

"I—"

"This was added some years after the Dedmunds sold the area," a voice interrupted from the corner.

Teddy nearly dropped the votive, burning the meat of her hand with hot wax but miraculously keeping the flame from going out. At the same time, it had looked like PJ was juggling the flashlight before he shone it at where the voice had come from. There stood the girl Teddy had seen in the window, hair hiding a good portion of her face, skin pale and providing contrast to the bright red of the lacerations and dark blues and purples of the bruises. Along with the bra, she wore a knee-length plaid skirt, knee-high white socks, and black flats. All she needed was a button-up blouse, and Teddy was sure it'd be a school uniform.

"Who are you?" asked PJ.

"Amy Ferguson," the girl replied, arms crossed shyly over her chest. "And this is a sacrificial room."

**XXX**

It took Petunia some time to get the webcam her grandchildren had gotten her last Christmas working. It was barely three years ago she'd learned how to use the internet, and Amy had then helped her create a Buddy page, which she was on now while Hank was at the golf course with his friends. Petunia would usually be at either cooking class or at the pool, but she and Jean needed to speak. Jean's granddaughter would be joining them, and after Petunia finally got everything up and running, she saw that Jean was online.

The redhead accepted Jean's group call, two windows coming onto the monitor screen. On the left was Jean, her hair cut short. It was more pale grey than copper now, but her thin face wasn't quite as lined as Petunia's. On the right was a sweet-looking girl with golden-brown eyes lined with long lashes and umber-brown hair pulled back away from her olive-toned face. She waved, pink lips in a small smile.

"This is my granddaughter, Skylar," Jean introduced when the girl waved. "She lives in New York now but used to live in Denver."

"I was friends with Teddy," Skylar added, "and PJ and I dated for a few months."

Petunia was not too keen about the idea of one of her grandchildren having been in a romantic relationship with someone practicing witchcraft. After all, when one of the two mules pulling a hoe slacked off, making the other work even harder, it would either tire out or start slacking off as well. Still, the girl looked sweet, and this was no time to judge how she'd been raised.

"I managed to contact him for about a minute," Skylar informed, worry wrinkles forming between her eyebrows.

"What?" Petunia sat up a little straighter.

"I'd been trying to contact PJ for almost three hours this morning and finally got through around eight." Skylar spoke quickly and paused to take a breath and slow down. "He said something about the roads, and there was a lot of static."

"A storm?" Petunia did not want her daughter and her family stuck at that house. She wished they had not gone there to begin with!

"It could also be more than that," Jean inputted. "Spirits feed on energy to thrive, so electronics often go haywire when they are nearby."

Skylar gave a nod at that. "I'm pretty sure there are more than two in that house. Nonni says the spell was supposed to summon spirits to carry out a wish for each person, right?"

Petunia gave a shaky nod. She did not like speaking of this, but something needed to be done.

"Have you contacted Nell?" Jean inquired, looking just as worried and anxious as Petunia.

Running her fingers through her wild curls, the woman responded, "She won't answer. I've been trying and trying, but… I don't know what's going on." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And how do we even know that _any_ of those spirits are…" She didn't want to finish that thought.

"We don't," Jean assured, "but the spirits there could very well be the ones we summoned that night."

"Necromancy is really tricky," said Skylar. "Most witches I know won't practice it, but one girl I know says that if they weren't dismissed properly, they'd probably decided to hang around, and it sounds like bad spirits ended up being summoned. It has to do with emotions. All of you were on edge, right?"

Petunia nodded. "I was angry, Nell had been _very_ angry for months, Camille was scared, Amy was nervous…"

"And I was very nervous as well," Jean amended. "Nell was not a girl you crossed."

"Right." Skylar gave a nod. "Queen Bees hadn't changed over the years. Anyway, they'll be trying to feed off certain emotions of the Duncan family. Strong emotion, especially, which creates energy that can keep them nourished, basically. I don't know for sure if they'll try more than scaring them. Ms. Nell needs to be contacted. I have a feeling she knows something that could solve all of this."

"I will keep trying," Petunia vowed.

"Me too." Jean gave a nod. "Also, with what had happened in your home last night…" The grey-eyed woman began looking troubled again.

"There have been similar things happening at Nonni's house over the years," Skylar informed when her grandmother stopped talking. "I think some of the spirits were able to follow you, her, and maybe Ms. Nell too. You should be fine. If you have any of those seven-day candles, light one of those, and you can sprinkle holy water or blessed salts around the house as you pray. It might not get rid of them. Has anything like that happened before?"

Elbows on the desk and fingers over her mouth, Petunia thought back to when she and Hank had moved in as well as their old home in Denver. "Lights would flicker now and then, and I'd hear noises—creaking, thumping, nothing that couldn't be explained away quickly. Once, I had a snow globe start playing music when I hadn't touched it in years, and sometimes I'd have a knickknack or two moved onto a different table or something, but what happened last night…" Petunia took a deep breath and crossed herself.

"Then it's probably not a bad spirit that followed you," said Skylar. "It could be trying to give you a message. I know you don't like to do these things, but—"

Face coming up from her hands, Petunia confidently declared, "If it means making sure my family is safe, I don't care if I end up having to speak to the devil himself."


End file.
